Elementum Quadrumvirate
by IgnisEtGlacies13
Summary: Four unlikely Hogwarts students-a rebellious Gryffindor, a reclusive Ravenclaw, an idealistic Hufflepuff, and an antisocial Slytherin-are forced to work together when they become victims of an ancient curse that may just save the Wizarding world…or destroy it.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Stupefy!"

A bright red jet of light discharged from my outstretched wand and shot towards the startled Ravenclaw in front of me. As the harsh jet blazed towards him he dropped to the ground, and the spell whizzed over his head. Standing up and brushing floor dust off his robes, he stared at me in alarm.

"What was that, Victoire?" he demanded.

I arched an eyebrow. "Er, Stupefy? Otherwise known as the Stunning Spell?"

"I know _that,_ you said the incantation aloud," he sighed. "I meant that we're supposed to be practicing the Full Body-Bind Jinx."

"I don't need to practice it," I retorted. "I learned that spell last year."

Even so, I looked around to confirm his statement. All the desks in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom had been pushed aside, forming an arena-like space in the centre. My fellow students were spread out inside it and crying "Petrificus Totalus!" Occasionally the thump of a body hitting the ground was heard, typically accompanied by a panicked "Finite Incatatem!"

Professor Jaron had put our class-all the third year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws-into pairs to perform mock duels. I had been paired with Connor Adler, whom I had never spoken to before today but heard that he was a brilliant introvert. Basically the textbook definition of Ravenclaw.

"Last year?" repeated Connor, sounding impressed.

I nodded once before rapidly changing the subject. "You try the spell."

He raised his wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

A burst of light erupted from his wand, but it dissipated in mid-air. He frowned and tried again, with the same results.

Professor Jaron passed by us, but stopped and glanced at Connor's evaporated spell. "Having some trouble, Adler?" he asked kindly.

Connor ruffled the brown hair on the back of his head uneasily. "Sort of, sir," he admitted.

"Try-"

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the classroom, knocking nearly everyone to the ground. I scrambled up and peered at the centre of the room, where a Ravenclaw girl was Body-Bound but also bleeding from a gash on her arm. Her wand lay just out of reach from her hand. A Gryffindor boy, Samuel Jones, stood nearby looking stricken.

"Professor! I don't know what happened!" he babbled. "All I said was 'Petrificus Tatolius!'"

"Oh, dear," sighed Professor Jaron. "Everyone keep practicing; I'll take care of this!" As he hurried over to the pair, he shouted to Connor over his shoulder, "Ask Miss Weasley for help with the spell!"

I gaped after him until I realized Connor was looking at me expectantly. Professor Jaron was the only professor whom I truly admired, but at the moment I didn't like him at all. I hated helping strangers, and usually the feeling was mutual. Annoyed, I moved beside him and gestured for him to lift his wand. He held it aloft, clutching it like it was his lifeline.

"Don't hold your wand so rigidly," I said shortly. "It affects the delivery of the spell."

A thoughtful look crossed his face. "I reckon I read that somewhere before."

"No use reading it if you can't bloody remember it for practical situations," I muttered.

If he heard me, he ignored my statement.

Just as I reached out to adjust his wand position, he cried, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The spell hit my hand and I froze, toppling forward and knocking both Connor and I to the ground. At the moment, I was grateful he was such a scrawny kid. I was slim myself, and if Connor were any heavier he might've broken my ribs.

"Oops, sorry," said Connor from underneath me.

Since I couldn't yell at him, I settled for giving him a death glare. He frantically pushed me off him and crouched beside my prone figure. "Finite Incatatem!"

I unfroze and scrambled upwards. "Connor…" I began warningly.

"I said sorry! I didn't know you were going to move in front of me."

I cocked my head to one side and analyzed him. Few people were sincere in their apologies to me, but Connor did look genuinely remorseful. His caramel-coloured eyes were shining, as if he would burst into tears if I didn't forgive him. I vaguely wondered whether my reputation caused him to think that I would curse him or something for accidentally Body-Binding me.

"Forget about it," I huffed. "Just pay attention next time."

He grinned in relief. "Thanks, Victoire."

"Well, now that you can do Petrificus Totalus properly, we can have a real duel," I said sinisterly, holding up my wand.

Connor visibly gulped.

* * *

We ended up duelling several times over the next half hour, as Professor Jaron was otherwise occupied with taking the Ravenclaw girl and Samuel Jones to the hospital wing. I thrashed Connor easily each time. He wasn't a terrible duellist, but I had honed my duelling skills since last Christmas and I was confident only a NEWT-level student could possibly beat me. Connor ended up Body-Bound five times, Stunned twice, and lastly, wrapped up in ropes.

After the latter, in which I had to cast the Revulsion Jinx to free him, he completely forgot about his wand laying by his side and simply stared at me in stunned amazement.

"How on earth can you perform Incarcerous?" he asked in bewilderment. "That's a NEWT-level spell that we learn in sixth year!"

I shrugged. "I practice defensive spells a lot."

"Incarcerous is an offensive spell," he pointed out.

"Not if you're being attacked."

"You would still be initiating an offense against the instigator."

I decided not to mention that I didn't know half the words he just spoke and glowered instead. "Whatever."

"Putting that aside, I still don't know how you can do Incarcerous. Even if you're supremely talented-which you seem to be-you'd have to spend every waking moment-"

Professor Jaron burst back into the classroom with a distraught Samuel in tow. "Class dismissed!" he panted.

"Is Annabel okay?" another Ravenclaw girl asked worriedly.

"She'll be fine," Professor Jaron reassured her. "She'll probably spend the night in the hospital wing, but she'll be right as rain tomorrow."

Grateful for the distraction caused by Professor Jaron's reappearance, I grabbed my belongings and brushed past Connor without another word. As I left the room, I double-checked my schedule to confirm that I had Herbology next, and headed to the castle's side entrance.

Upon exiting the castle, I trudged behind a bunch of Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. I took note of the leaves changing colour with a faint smile-if there was anyone who appreciated colour, it was me; I regularly dyed my pale blonde hair with pink and blue streaks, although I haven't lately. I breathed in the crisp fall air, reveling in one last breath of fresh air before following everyone inside Greenhouse Three.

A large table occupied the centre of the room. Identical plants with red leaves and thin stems had been set up at every seat. Professor Longbottom, the Herbology teacher, was at the front of the room, prodding a wispy-looking specimen with his wand. I knew him a little better than most students because he was my uncles' friend back from the Second Wizarding War. He looked up as we filed into the greenhouse and beamed.

"Welcome everyone, take a seat in front of a plant!" he called out. "Oh, and grab a pair of gloves from the back, you'll need them."

I seized two leather gloves and picked a seat closer to the back window, which was the only one open. A light breeze fluttered through the window as I pulled the gloves on and proceeded to ignore the chattering students around me.

When everyone had taken a seat, Professor Longbottom levitated his plant to the centre of the room for everyone to see. "This is the Carmine Carnivorous plant. It's characterized by several distinguishing qualities, which you might want to copy down-it'll be on your next test. First there's its obvious bright red leaves, characteristic to all the Carmine plants. Also note its feather-like pattern along the veins…"

I tuned him out as I gazed out the window. The faint scent of woodsmoke wafted in. The Care of Magical Creatures teacher, Professor Hagrid, must be either trying to attract strange creatures from the Forbidden Forest, or cooking; I wasn't sure which was more horrifying. The smoky smell was strangely aromatic, and before I knew it, I was struggling to keep my eyes open. I turned back to Professor Longbottom, but with my half-lidded vision I only glimpsed a round blonde blur before my eyes drifted shut.

 _I stood at the foot of a tall grassy mountain. The peak seemed to brush the clouds, but somehow I could easily see two girls standing at the very edge at the top. Both were wearing cocktail dresses, one in pink and the other clad in blue. Despite the calm expressions on their faces, they were screaming my name._

" _I'm coming!" I yelled as I tried to climb the mountain. There were multiple handholds, but as I climbed higher, the two girls seemed to get farther and farther away. Soon I could no longer see their brightly coloured dresses, and their screams faded away to nothing._

 _I shouted at them to wait for me, but then my hands slipped and I tumbled off a ledge. I spotted the ground rushing up to meet me, a blur of green grass and trees mixed with the dark brown earth. Powerless, I simply closed my eyes and accepted my fate._

"Miss Weasley! Victoire!"

My eyes flew open and met Professor Longbottom's vexed stare. The class tittered. I shot them all my death glare, and they instantly turned away.

I couldn't believe I'd fallen asleep in class again. I had actually went to sleep last night for four hours, which was more than usual.

"Sleeping in class again, Victoire? It's becoming a bad habit," Judy, another Gryffindor third year, said mockingly. She flipped her long brown hair over one shoulder and smirked at me. Her friends, Fatima and Eleanor, giggled beside her.

Professor Longbottom shot her a warning look and looked back at me. "Victoire, please stay awake. Now, where were we…right. What is different about the Carmine Carnivorous' primary growth zone as compared to most other Carmine plants?"

After a few seconds went by, I realized he was asking me.

"Er…I don't know."

He frowned. "We covered that at the beginning of the lecture. Did you forget, or were you already sleeping?"

"Probably sleeping," I said flippantly.

He raised an eyebrow. "Victoire, please come see me after class...and 10 points from Gryffindor. Now, when the Carmine Carnivorous flowers, the buds…"

I silently fumed in my seat. Who cared about stupid plants? I was much more preoccupied with the dream I just had. I'd been having the same one for the past ten months, and it ended the same way each time: I slipped off the mountain before reaching the top, and I woke up right after surrendering my life to the ground. It was improbable that I would have the same dream again and again for so long, and I made a mental note to check for books on dreams in the library.

"Now dig into the soil near the base of your plant," said Professor Longbottom. "The charm should be near the root tips, so this will take a while. And, er, watch out for its teeth. Go on!"

Grimacing, I parted the soil and reached down. The plant convulsed and a vine extended toward my hand, baring its tiny fangs. I swatted at it with my other hand, causing it to whimper and shrink back.

Fiddling around in soil while a plant tried to bite me was about as fun as it sounded. It kept lunging at my arm, and at one point its teeth grazed my skin. I seriously hoped the plant wasn't venomous.

About ten minutes later, I felt a hard object and pulled, hearing it snap off the root. I withdrew my hand and stared at the tiny orb. It was about a centimetre in diameter and glowing yellow. It would have been pretty if it weren't pulsing like a living heart, which just made it extremely disturbing. I quickly dropped it in my bag and shook off the dirt that had accumulated on the gloves.

"You all should have unearthed your charm by now," said Professor Longbottom. "Remember to keep it! It's rumoured to bring good luck and fulfillment to the bearer."

"Your homework is an essay comparing the Carmine Carnivorous to another plant, due next week. It should be at least three feet long." He waved his wand, and the plant he'd been levitating floated back to him. "You're all dismissed."

"Except Victoire," Judy pointed out, sticking her tongue out at me.

I whipped out my wand and blasted a Horn Tongue hex at Judy, but Professor Longbottom was quick to react and deflected the spell.

"Miss Weasley!" he snapped. "Pack your possessions and come up here. Miss Fisher, you may leave."

Judy snorted but obeyed and left. I slowly packed my things as the class emptied around me. After depositing my gloves at the back and slinging my bag over one shoulder, I strode to the front of the classroom.

Professor Longbottom's face turned into a grimace as I approached. "Victoire," he sighed. "What's happened to you? You used to be one of my best students."

I shrugged. "Things change."

"Not that drastically," he said. "You were able to answer my questions and you certainly never fell asleep in class. From what I hear from your other teachers, this change is happening in all your other classes too. Except from Professor Jaron, for some reason." He peered at me. I chose not to answer his rhetorical comment.

"You're a bright student, but you rarely complete your homework and I can't remember the last time you handed any in on time-" He paused suddenly, and his eyebrows furrowed. "Actually, I can remember. It was last Christmas, wasn't it?"

My throat tightened and I had to force myself to keep making eye contact with him. "I don't know."

He looked at me with pity, which only irritated me further. I didn't like pity, nor did I need any. It was a useless sentiment that didn't help anyone. "Victoire, I care about you. All your professors do. If you need someone to talk to about-"

"I'm fine," I interrupted.

"I know it's hard, but we can help you-"

"I _said_ I'm _fine_ ," I said fiercely.

Professor Longbottom looked at me disbelievingly, but to my relief he let the matter drop. "All right then," he nodded. "I won't force you. If you ever change your mind, you know where my office is. Firstly, I ought to give you detention for trying to give Miss Fisher a horned tongue, but as it was a provoked attack, I'll let it slide." He glanced at me knowingly. "Plus I heard you already have a detention this Thursday."

I groaned. "Professor Patil told you?"

"Yes," he said. Professor Longbottom looked at me thoughtfully and asked, "Can you really cast the Horn Tongue hex? I only learned it after graduating from Hogwarts."

"I used it on Lena Harper on the second day of school this year," I offered. "She called me a foul half-breed."

His eyebrows vaulted, but he didn't comment on my confession of hallway duelling with a Slytherin. "Second, I expect your essay finished, well-written, and handed in on time for next week. Understood?"

I frowned, but nodded dutifully. He continued staring at me impassively for a few seconds, before finally dismissing me.

I stomped out of Greenhouse Three in a bad mood. I didn't need Professor Longbottom or any other intrusive professors sticking their nose in my business. A small part of me was glad Professor Longbottom had backed off and not given me another detention, but I had been behind on Herbology and most other subjects for so long that it was impossible for me to catch up on everything in a week and write a decent essay. Plus, I was pretty sure Professor Longbottom knew this, and would use my bad grade as an excuse to talk to me one-on-one again. And this time, I feared he would bring up the event of last Christmas and force me to talk about it.

By the time I arrived at the Great Hall, I still hadn't come up with any solutions and decided to simply write the essay as best I could. I scowled at a couple Hufflepuff first-years, frightening them out of the hall, and sat down on the nearest empty seat at the Gryffindor table. I wolfed everything down quickly, determined to get some books on Carnivorous Carmine plants from the library before curfew.

Someone plopped down in the empty seat beside me. "Hey Victoire."

I glanced over without pausing in my chewing. "Selma."

Selma Spinnet grabbed a ladle and began spooning mushroom soup in her bowl. She was a tall sixth-year with short red hair, a strong jaw, and my fellow Beater on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. This year she'd been promoted to team captain and frequently reminded me of practice times, since no one else on the team spoke to me.

"Practice is tomorrow at one," she said. "I reckon none of the other house teams wanted to practice on Halloween."

"Better make sure the team doesn't eat too much at the lunch then," I said. "Otherwise they-"

"Won't be able to fly?"

"I was going to say 'will spend the entire practice spewing', but that works too."

Selma cracked a grin. "I'll remember to warn them. Or maybe not, since they'll assume you're insulting them."

"Probably," I admitted. "Who are we playing in our next match?"

"Slytherin this Saturday," she said. "Luckily, their captain, Zabini, has a detention and won't be able to play."

I snickered; Baxter Zabini was a complete arse and my least favourite person on the Slytherin Quidditch team, which was saying a lot. Selma's triumphant grin disappeared as she fixed me with a severe look. "Which reminds me…you'd better not get another detention on Saturday too."

"That was one match!" I protested.

"It was our first match, and the whole Gryffindor team should have been present," rebuked Selma. "I'm sure you know the rest of the team isn't that fond of you to begin with, and you're not exactly trying to change their perception."

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. "My detention is the day after Halloween, anyway."

Her jaw dropped. "On Thursday? You seriously have a detention? For what?"

"I didn't finish my Transfiguration homework." Which was true, but Professor Patil probably would have let it pass if I hadn't been sassing her during her queries about why I didn't do homework.

Selma sighed and began slurping her soup. Once I swallowed my last bite of beef stew, I checked the ornate clock on the wall and stood up.

"I have to go, I need to do some research in the library before curfew," I told her.

She nodded and waved good-bye before turning to speak to her friends. I left the Great Hall and headed to the castle's east wing on the third floor.

The hallways were mostly devoid of students, considering that it was dinnertime. My harsh footsteps pattering on the floor were unnaturally loud and echoing off the marble walls. The paintings on the wall were staring at me and whispering to each other, no doubt listing my various transgressions. At one point I swore I heard someone laugh, but when I looked back there was no on there. Assuming it was one of the portraits, I shrugged and continued walking.

Once the library was in sight, I had mixed feelings of eagerness and dread. The rational part of me knew I needed to do some Herbology research, but I honestly didn't want to. My feet dragged a bit as I approached the thick oaken door.

"Flipendo!"

Without warning, the force of an ironclad punch struck me in the back. I fell and smashed my face onto the floor. A coppery taste trickled into my mouth, and I realized my nose had broken.

Spitting out blood, I reached for my wand in my robe sleeve, but the same voice-which I now recognized as Fatima's-cried, "Petrificus Totalus!"

For the second time that day, my limbs locked together and I became paralyzed. My wand dropped from my grasp and skittered across the marble floor. A few seconds later, the grinning face of Judy, Fatima and Eleanor-the other third-year Gryffindor girls who happened to hate me-appeared in my field of vision.

"Nice day for a Body-Bind, isn't it Victoire?" cooed Judy, picking up my wand. "So much for being the best duellist in Gryffindor."

I tried to spit a retort, but my jaw refused to cooperate. Instead, I rolled my eyes and glared.

"It's awful to feel helpless like this, isn't it?" commented Judy. "Like when they died and you couldn't do anything about it?"

Rage coursed through me, so intense that I literally saw red. I fought the curse as hard as I could, but I didn't move an inch.

Judy smirked and kicked me in the side. Pain flared from my waist, and I knew there would be some bruising. "Fatima, if you please?"

A slender wand was pointed at me. "Mobiliarcorpus!"

I felt myself rise a few feet into the air and Fatima levitated me inside a nearby broom closet. When it dawned on me what Judy's plan was, I struggled even harder, stretching every part of my body in my furious attempt to escape, but of course it was futile.

I was dumped unceremoniously into the closet, my head banging against the back wall. Judy hurled my wand at my face. It bounced off my forehead and landed beside me.

"Get comfortable," she hissed. "You won't be coming out of there for a long, long while."

She closed the door, and a sound not unlike a trio of giggling hyenas faded into the distance.

* * *

I absolutely hated it when Judy was right. It took three bloody hours for the curse to wear off. If I hadn't been so outraged at the three of them, I would have been impressed with Fatima's spellwork. I was certain it was past curfew, which meant I'd have to do my Herbology research another day.

I was propped upright the whole time, so I was able to feel the blood from my shattered nose slowly slide down the front of my robes without being able to do anything about it. When the Body-Bind finally vanished, the first thing I did was grab my wand and mutter, "Tergeo" in an attempt to siphon the blood off my robes. Unfortunately, it didn't work, probably because I had spent more time working on offensive and defensive magic rather than healing spells.

After a few more fruitless efforts, I gave up and stowed my wand back in my sleeve. Flinging open the closet door, I checked both ways before taking off down the corridor. I whipped around the first corner and promptly collided with another student.

Loudly cursing my bad luck, I stumbled backwards. The other student let out a startled shout but managed to stay balanced. I automatically glanced at the student's face and groaned aloud.

"Edward," I said.

He stared at me quizzically. His black-and-yellow Hufflepuff robes were now wrinkled, and his prefect badge had been knocked askew. "Huh?"

"That's your name. Did you forget, or has it been changed since I last spoke to you?"

"Very funny, Victoire," said Edward. "No, my name has not changed. Only, literally everyone refers to me as Teddy."

"Yes, well, I called you by your real name. Get over it."

"Very well." Edward's voice remained polite, but the roots of his hair were slowly turning bright orange. He was a Metamorphmagus, which allowed him to change his appearance at will. Whenever his emotions spiked, his hair or eye colour tended to reflect the appropriate colour until he managed to control his reactions. In this case, I figured orange symbolised exasperation, which I could sympathise with because I felt exactly the same way.

I knew all this because my uncle, Harry Potter, happened to be his godfather. Edward and his grandmother usually attended the Potter-Weasley gatherings held throughout the year, which meant I saw him way more often than I wanted to.

He surveyed me, his features alternating between concern and disgust as his gaze swept over my broken nose and bloodstained robes. "What happened to you?" he asked.

"Er…I tripped and smacked my face on the floor." Which was partially true. There was no way I was telling anyone that I got jumped and locked in a broom closet by another Gryffindor third year half my size. My pride wouldn't let me, even if it would land Judy and her cronies a few months' worth of detention.

"What did you trip over, your own feet?"

"Very funny, Edward. No, there was a…puddle in the corridor."

"Filch is the fussiest caretaker in the world," he said pointedly. "You're telling me he missed an entire puddle?"

"Fine, don't believe me!" I shouted. "What do you think I did, murder a couple of Slytherins?!"

His eyes hardened. "That's not funny."

"It wasn't supposed to be," I sneered.

Edward adjusted his robes and badge, then stood up straight. His voice became flat and dispassionate as he said, "Seeing as you are out past curfew, that will be thirty points from Gryffindor. Additionally, I will be escorting you back to your dormitory."

I exhaled loudly. "That won't be necessary."

"Yes it is, no use arguing about it," he said. He extracted his wand from his robes and waved it at me. "Tergeo. Episkey."

The bloodstains on my robes vanished instantly. I flinched as a burning pain filled my nose before fading a second later, and when I reached up I could tell the bones were mended. He tucked his wand away and beckoned for me to follow him.

Seeing I had little choice, I obeyed. While my stride was closer to a strut, his walk was stiff and controlled. Edward led me up the moving staircases to the seventh floor and confidently took several turns in the corridors. I was surprised he knew where the Gryffindor common room was, but I supposed all prefects and Head Boys and Girls were given directions to all the House common rooms.

We stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait. I waited for Edward to leave, but he remained in place, watching me like I was caged Chimaera threatening to escape.

"Are you going to leave anytime soon?" I finally asked.

"I need to ensure you enter your common room," he replied.

"Are you bloody serious?!" I exclaimed angrily. "You're a Hufflepuff, I can't say the password in front of you!"

"You can _whisper_ it to the Fat Lady," he said. "Although I doubt you have the capability to speak softly."

I glared at him and stalked up to the painting. She glanced at Edward and whispered rather loudly to me, "Password, dear?"

"Fire crab," I muttered.

She nodded and swung open, revealing the round entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Just when I was about to climb in, Edward added, "Stay in your dormitory tonight."

I whirled around. "Excuse me?"

He pointed at my face. "You have bags under your eyes that are darker than some seventh-years. Clearly you're not sleeping."

I was stunned into silence. No one had ever pointed that out, at least not to my face.

"You…" I was too incensed to think properly. The stress of being Body-Bound twice in one day, scolded by Professor Longbottom, lectured by Selma, attacked by Judy and her cronies, and now cross-examined by Edward Lupin of all people, was catching up to me. "Mind your own bloody business and _leave me alone_!"

I stormed into the Gryffindor common room. The first thing I spotted was Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor playing Exploding Snap near the fire. They were settled into squashy red armchairs and trading cards. Judy caught sight of me and pointed, and the three of them dissolved into laughter.

I swept them a freezing glare which they pretended not to see, and went up to the girl's dormitory. After making sure the bathroom was empty, I entered and locked the door behind me. To be on the safe side, I cast Collorputus on the doorknob.

I turned back around and looked at myself in the mirror, breathing in deeply. I may be part-Veela, but the only thing I have in common with my mother is her colouring: fair skin, blue eyes, pale blonde hair which I kept at shoulder-length. She often remarked that my unruly nature was more similar to my dad's, back when he attended Hogwarts.

I separated a thick strand of my hair from the rest and kept it bunched together in one hand. I removed my wand from my robe sleeve, pointed it at the strand, and said clearly, "Crinus Moto."

Tendrils of steam fizzled off the strand as it slowly turned from blonde to pink. I smiled faintly and repeated the process with another strand. This time, it turned blue beneath my fingertips.

There was something relaxing about dying my hair. It could be considered rebellious since no other Hogwarts student had dyed hair, but that wasn't why I dyed it. For me it was therapeutic, as it reminded me of past events that were both good and bad and served as a prompt of what happened last Christmas. I also had to admit I preferred my appearance with highlights; it made me look older than thirteen and a whole lot tougher than I really was.

Once I finished adding multiple pink and blue highlights in my hair, I put my wand down and surveyed my handiwork in the mirror. My smile widened. It looked almost exactly like the day I dyed my hair for the first time-last year on Valentine's Day.

Several loud knocks rained down on the door. "Hurry _up_ , Victoire! I need to take a shower!" hollered Judy.

"Too bad, I got here first!" I yelled back before turning on the shower full blast. It was an improvisation, but there was no way I was letting Judy get what she wanted after abandoning me in a closet for three hours.

Through the door I heard her curse me under her breath and exit the dormitory. I opened the door a crack and confirmed that the room was empty before seizing my wand. I pointed it at my four-poster bed and said, "Accio pajamas."

My cherry-red pajamas flew out of my open trunk and into my hands. A fleeting grin crossed my face before I closed the door, stripped my robes off, and lost myself in the rush of cooling water.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Miss Weaver, you are most fortunate today!" cried Professor Slughorn jovially as I walked into the Potions dungeon classroom. "I was just about to start class."

"That's great," I said, stifling a yawn. Despite Edward's admonishments the night before, I had barely gotten any sleep last night. After having the same nightmare yet again, I had spent the next several hours practicing offensive and defensive spells. I was so tired that I didn't even bother correcting Professor Slughorn on my surname-not that it mattered. He got almost everyone's name wrong, even if the person corrected him every class.

I picked my usual seat in every classroom; as close to the back wall as possible. Professor Slughorn beamed at the class. "Hello, third year Gryffindors and Slytherins! Today you will all be concocting the Sleeping Draught. It's a relatively simple potion to make that causes the drinker to fall into a deep but temporary sleep." He lifted the lid off the cauldron in front of him, exposing a bright lavender potion beginning to bubble over the rim.

"Flip open your textbooks to page 170, and follow the instructions closely," he warned. "Last year a student accidentally included peppermint instead of valerian sprigs, and the drinker was knocked out for a week. However, it is a relatively easy potion to make and none of you should have any trouble with it. All the ingredients you will need are in the cupboard." He gestured to the ornamented cabinet behind him. "Any questions?"

Eleanor raised her hand. "Since it's Halloween today, sir, can we brew an orange potion instead?"

I groaned. Professor Slughorn blinked as he took in her strange request. "The only orange potions that I have the ingredients for are the Oculus and the Wit-Sharpening, both of which are beyond your capabilities of producing. So I will have to say no, Miss Smith."

"Actually, it's Smitty-"

"You have one hour to complete the potion, which is more time than you really need," he said, cutting her off. "There is no reason why anyone shouldn't be able to pass." With that, he sat down at his desk and proceeded to work on his own potions.

There was a minor stampede as almost every student rushed towards the cupboard behind Professor Slughorn. I fetched my Potions textbook from my bag and flipped it to page 170. Laying the book on my desk, I carefully scanned the ingredients I needed. I extracted my wand, aimed it at the cupboard, and said with intense focus, "Accio."

Many students cried out in alarm as a mass of potion ingredients came flying out of the cupboard. To my delight, I noticed Judy was smacked in the head by a frog brain. I lowered my wand, and the ingredients all landed softly on my desk. I couldn't help smirking because it was the first time the spell had worked with multiple objects-last time I'd tried it, most of the objects had fallen to the ground. I gradually became aware that the class had gone unusually quiet and were throwing me dirty looks.

Professor Slughorn coughed uncomfortably. "Erm, Miss Weaver, it might be best if next time, you do not use the Summoning Charm to retrieve your potion ingredients, especially if there are still students in front of the cupboard. It's, ah, rather dangerous."

"Sure thing, Professor," I said. As I picked up the first ingredient- lavender roots-Judy walked by and tossed the frog brain at me. My Quidditch reflexes kicked in and I ducked, watching as it crashed into the wall with a dull thud. She looked at me, fury written across her face, but didn't dare to do anything more with a teacher so close by and so many witnesses. She hissed, "Show-off!" and flounced away. I inwardly sighed in relief.

I dumped the lavender roots in my cauldron. Pointing my wand underneath it, I muttered, "Incendio." Flames erupted beneath the cauldron, and I checked the potion's instructions again. Over the course of the hour I worked steadily, and in the end I had filled a vial with my Sleeping Draught. I hoped it was at least an 'Acceptable'. I had worked harder than I usually did on a potion, since there was a question I wanted to ask Professor Slughorn and it never hurt to flatter teachers a bit beforehand.

"These look excellent," praised Professor Slughorn, examining the row of purple vials on his desk. "You don't have homework for this week, but next week be prepared to write a longer essay than usual. Class dismissed!"

As the third year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed out of the dungeon, I stalled while packing my things. Professor Slughorn made to leave the classroom, then noticed I was still there and stopped at the threshold.

"Sorry, professor," I said blandly as I hurried over. I hoped the insincerity in my apology wasn't too obvious.

"Not a problem, Miss Weaver," he replied.

As we walked down the corridor, I glanced at him and said, "Professor, can I ask you something?"

"You already have, my dear, but feel free to ask another one," he joked.

I chuckled. "Right. It's about the Sleeping Draught…hypothetically speaking, if someone was having trouble sleeping, should they drink the Sleeping Draught?"

"No," he replied immediately. "The Sleeping Draught forces one to sleep for a few hours. It won't last the whole night, and there may be side effects if it is drunk too often." He eyed me curiously. "This hypothetical person you speak of, is he or she staying awake due to recurring nightmares?"

"Yeah, he or she is having nightmares," I confirmed.

"Then I would recommend the potion for Dreamless Sleep," said Professor Slughorn. "Rather than forcing the drinker to sleep, they simply won't dream at all. They would be able to sleep naturally through the night. They're usually administered to witnesses of traumatic events."

That sounded perfect. "Where can I get it?"

"For your hypothetical friend?" he said without missing a beat.

"Er, yes, of course."

He scrutinized me, and I could tell he had figured out I was the hypothetical person. I could practically see him mentally debating whether or not to tell me where to find the potion. "Madam Pomfrey keeps them in her cabinet in the hospital wing," he said finally. "If you explain the hypothetical situation to her, she'll give it to you."

"Thanks, professor," I said, already planning the earliest time that I could take a trip to the hospital wing.

"You're quite welcome, Miss Weaver," he replied. "By the way, your Summoning charm in class was most impressive, especially for a third year student."

"Thanks, professor," I repeated. "Er, I have to go now, so…"

I slipped away from him, hoping I hadn't been too rude. There were rumours of Professor Slughorn hand-picking talented or famous students to join his Slug Club. From what I'd heard, I'd rather eat a slug than be picked. I despised making small talk with people I couldn't care less about, or just people in general, and I loathed parties.

After eating a quick lunch, I went straight to the hospital wing and peeked inside. Madam Pomfrey was busy tending to a curly-haired Ravenclaw with angry red boils on her face. Looking around, I noticed a bunch of other Ravenclaws and a few Slytherins with the same injuries.

Madam Pomfrey caught sight of my staring and explained, "There was an accident in the fourth-year Care of Magical Creatures class. Professor Hagrid brought in Blast-Ended Skrewts." There was a distinct note of resentment in her voice.

I recalled my dad telling me that Professor Hagrid had breeded them illegally, but after the war he was granted a license to keep them, much to everyone's dismay. So far, he'd only shown my class fairly tame creatures like Puffskeins and Bowtruckles, but the mention of Blast-Ended Skrewts made me worried about the potential hazards of the class again.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Weasley?" asked Madam Pomfrey.

"Can I have the Dreamless Sleep potion?" I said.

She frowned. "What do you need it for?"

"I'm having nightmares and can't sleep," I confessed.

"All right," she said, bustling across the wing. She tapped her wand against the lock of a cabinet, which sprang open with an audible click. Madam Pomfrey reached inside and withdrew a dark purple potion. It was glowing faintly, and its luminescence was accentuated by the sunlight pouring in through the towering windows.

Madam Pomfrey carefully wrapped it in a thick brown cloth and handed it to me. "Don't break it," she warned. "The potion stains and requires extremely advanced magic to remove."

"Got it," I said, and stuffed the potion in my bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her cringe.

One of the Slytherins let out an agonizing moan, and she rushed to his side. I made a mental note to leave class if Professor Hagrid ever brought in Blast-Ended Skrewts, and left the hospital wing.

I trekked up the seven flights of stairs to the Gryffindor dormitory and secured the potion inside the nightstand near my bed. I then rummaged underneath my bed until my fingers closed around a smooth oaken handle. I rolled my Firebolt out and blew on the handgrip, causing the dust and dead spiders to tumble off.

The Firebolt had been a birthday present from my parents last year, after I'd been the only second year to make the Quidditch team. It was the most valuable thing I owned, and I would store it in a better place without spiders if there was one. Unfortunately, the Hogwarts broom storage was not an option because the Slytherins reportedly broke in one year and cast Hurling Hexes on all the broomsticks there.

I tucked my broom under my arm and double-checked that the dormitory was empty before creeping over to the window. I unlatched the lock and pushed it open. The bitter wind surged inside, much colder than yesterday's lukewarm breeze. I crawled over the pane and balanced precariously on the edge, using my broom to help anchor me, before swinging the window shut. In one deft move, I mounted my Firebolt and took off.

Flying always gave me a thrill, ever since I rode a toy broomstick at Shell Cottage over a decade ago. I controlled the broom, where I went and how fast I flew, and seeing the people and trees shrink to the size of toys below me was exhilarating. The morning dew was still present on the grass, making it shine in the bright sunlight. Despite the sunny weather, it was chilly and I was shivering in my Hogwarts robes. I banked sharply and landed near the changing rooms at the west edge of the Quidditch pitch.

Selma was already in there, changing into the scarlet-and-gold robes. When I walked in, she looked up in surprise. "Wow, Victoire, you're actually early."

"Oh, shut up," I said, leaning my broomstick against the wall and grabbing my own set of robes. I couldn't care less that I was notorious for being late to Quidditch practice, class, and basically everything.

As I dressed, Selma reached into the closet and pulled out two Beater bats. She tossed one to me, and I caught it with one hand and examined it. The school bats weren't great, but they could knock a Bludger at people's heads without disintegrating, so it was good enough for me.

The door opened, and the team's three Chasers, Karla Richards, David Parker, and Elliot Chan, walked in. They glanced at me disinterestedly and turned to Selma. "Jeremiah's going to be late, he has his career appointment with Professor Longbottom right now," said David. Jeremiah Harding was the Gryffindor Seeker.

"Seriously?" moaned Selma. "Fine. You three get changed. Victoire and I will head out now, and when we're all ready I'll review the tactics diagram."

"Didn't we go over that last week?" asked Karla.

"I modified a few components," said Selma, seizing the trunk containing the Quidditch balls and left the changing room. I followed her out and watched as she kicked the trunk open. She knelt beside it and unstrapped one of the Bludgers. It shot upwards, fading into a little grey speck against the clouds.

"Why did you change the tactics?" I asked. "They worked fine."

"No they didn't! There were a few problems with the flying paths, yours and Elliot's intersected at one point. I realized Jeremiah's strategy superseded the midline too often. Karla's was too close to-watch out!"

I whipped around to see the Bludger soaring back towards me. I raised my bat and swung at the iron ball, sending it veering in the opposite direction.

"Let's just fly," I said, not wanting to have to listen to Selma's rant on Quidditch tactics twice.

Selma nodded in agreement, and we simultaneously mounted our broomsticks and flew into the air. We ended up starting a game where we were hitting the Bludger at each other, like an infinitely more dangerous dodgeball game (a Muggle sport Uncle Harry once taught me). A few minutes later, Karla, David, and Elliot ascended to where we were playing, staying well back to minimize their chances of being hit by a stray Bludger. They were soon joined by Nellie Cloutier, the Gryffindor Keeper. Selma motioned for them to come closer, but Karla shook her head defiantly and pointed at the Bludger zooming around randomly. The other two Chasers seemed to share her wariness of getting struck.

"Victoire, can you stay beside Karla in case the Bludger comes near her?" Selma requested.

I sighed in irritation, but complied and flew over to Karla. Her lip curled in disdain, and she angled her broom away from me. I never really knew why she didn't like me: she was a decent flier, and a good Chaser. Yet she and the rest of the team (apart from Selma) had always loathed my presence.

"You might want to be nicer," I said. "I can always let the Bludger hit you. Accidentally, of course."

Karla scoffed. "You'd be kicked off the team."

"Er, no, I wouldn't. When you sign up to play Quidditch, it's with the full knowledge that injuries could happen," I countered.

"Listen up, everyone!" shouted Selma. "I made a few changes to our tactics diagram. I'll go over them, and then we'll try them out during drills. Everyone okay with that?"

"No?" said Elliot hopefully.

"Too bad," said Selma, and she launched into a full-blown lecture. I speculated that the reason why Selma liked me well enough was because our personalities were a tad similar.

Her lecture took even longer than last week, lasting about forty-five minutes. Throughout the presentation she added her own commentary wherever she felt like it, dragging it on for longer than it probably would have been otherwise. I ended up smacking two Bludgers away from Karla, one each from David, Elliot, and Nellie, and two from Jeremiah, who showed up in the middle of the lecture. I almost missed one heading straight to my face because I had zoned out when Selma started instructing Jeremiah on his updated flight paths.

"Okay!" said Selma, clapping her hands together and jolting me out of my reverie. I nearly toppled off my broom, but managed to grab the handle in time. "Let's try these out!"

I stayed where I was, hovering near Selma, as my teammates flew off to opposite ends of the pitch. Nellie stopped in front of the goal hoops, followed by the three Chasers who lingered near the scoring area. Jeremiah rocketed upwards and began circling the pitch.

After checking that everyone was in position, Selma flew back down and landed on the grass. She sprinted over to the trunk and released the remaining balls into the sky: the Golden Snitch, the Quaffle, and the other Bludger. David zoomed forward and caught the Quaffle, executing a near-perfect Porskoff Ploy to Elliot, who waiting below.

As Selma got back on her broom, Elliot sped off, clutching the Quaffle tightly. I located a nearby Bludger and cracked my bat against it, sending it hurtling towards him. He looked back and rolled underneath the iron ball in a Sloth Grip Roll, tossing the Quaffle to Karla. She caught it and raced to the opposite goal hoops. Selma hit a Bludger at her, but she veered sideways to dodge it and threw the Quaffle at a hoop. Nellie lunged to intercept it, but the ball grazed her fingertips and went through the hoop.

"I caught the Snitch!" yelled Jeremiah, waving his closed fist.

"Not bad," said Selma. "Nellie, don't fly as far away from the hoops when a Chaser approaches. David, you diverted from your assigned flight path just before Karla scored. And Victoire, you should keep better track of where the Bludgers when there are Chasers inside the scoring area. Let's run through it again."

* * *

Selma forced us all to stay and practice the new tactics until we had them all memorized and performed them perfectly, which took over three hours. By the time I trudged off the Quidditch pitch, it was past five o'clock and there wasn't enough time for me to shower before the Halloween feast. I had no choice but to walk into the Great Hall smelling of sweat and blood (after the Snitch flew in front of my face and Jeremiah crashed into me in his attempt to catch it, which he didn't).

The Great Hall was lavishly decorated with skulls, pumpkins, and other assorted Halloween items. The House banners, which were usually decked out in the appropriate House colours, were now black and orange. Even some the food was Halloween-themed, like the bright orange pumpkin soup, skull-shaped quiches and ghost chicken wings, which vanished when you bit into them.

I slumped into the first empty seat, physically and mentally exhausted. Only after the person beside me made a nauseated sound and shifted away did I realized I'd sat beside Judy, with Fatima and Eleanor across from her.

"Can you leave? You look and smell disgusting right now," barked Judy.

I had been about to move to anyway, but since my presence was going to irritate Judy, I decided to stay put. "No," I said shortly, and reached for the quiches.

Eleanor huffed in frustration. "You're not wanted, Victoire. Get out."

"I'm allowed to sit where I want," I said.

"Technically, yes, but we're trying to eat, and it's hard to do so when your face is here," said Judy scathingly.

I stared daggers at her. "Really, so I'm faceless? What does that make you gits, since none of you have any hearts?"

I had aimed the question at all three of them, and I swore I saw a flash of distress cross Fatima's face.

Judy laughed derisively. "I doubt-"

That's when all the lights in the Great Hall were abruptly extinguished, plunging the whole space into darkness.

Frightened shrieks rang out, echoing loudly in the temporary silence. Immediately, shouts of "Lumos!" were heard, but no bright light pierced the dark. I guessed it was a variation of Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, the special dust that my Uncle George and Uncle Ron sold in their joke shop.

Up at the front table, Headmistress McGonagall started to shout something, but her voice was quickly drowned out by the terrified screams of students, who began rushing toward the exit in a desperate attempt to find light. Judy leapt out of her seat, bumping into me and knocking me onto the floor. Knowing how dangerous the ground was during a stampede, I stood up quickly and was swallowed up in the rush to the doorway.

Being swept up in a stampede was like drowning in an ocean. The constant pressure on all sides made it hard to breathe, and there was so much panic emanating from all sides that one couldn't help panicking themselves. Against my will, I was carried out of the Great Hall, almost tripping more than once. I frantically thrust out a hand and latched onto the fist object I felt. I clung to it as the flood of students continued its path to the staircases, and when I felt its shape I realized it was a doorknob. I vaguely remembered there being a door beside the Great Hall that blended in with the wall.

Taking a refuge in a room, even an unknown one, seemed like the safest option. I twisted the knob and threw myself inside, quickly closing the door behind me. Brushing dirt off my robes, I examined my surroundings.

The room was bigger than I'd expected. It was about the size of a small classroom, meaning it was probably abandoned. A pile of desks and chairs stood in the corner, most of them made of rotting wood. Large windows at the back allowed filtered moonlight to seep through, casting a pale sheen on the floor and giving the room an unearthly look. A lone bookshelf was propped against the wall, with only a few books adorning its shelves. A strange mark in the centre of the floor was etched into the marble with black ink.

I stepped closer to the mark, crouching down and inspecting it while tilting my head. I didn't recognize it, but when I looked closer I realized it was moving slightly, like a writhing snake. It wasn't that unusual to find squirming things at Hogwarts, but squirming marks on the floor was something new.

The door opened behind me and I spun around, wand in my grip. A boy tumbled inside, nearly falling over in the same manner I had. I peered at him and made out a short, skinny figure, shaggy brown hair, caramel-coloured eyes…

"Connor?" I asked. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing as you, probably," replied Connor, sounding as if running into near-strangers in dark rooms was a usual occurrence to him. "Sheltering from the mass rush of students just outside. I remembered there was a room here and managed to wade to the door."

"Oh, I just happened to grab the doorknob," I admitted.

He looked around and his eyes immediately landed on the bookshelf. Crossing the room in quick strides, he browsed through the titles, a look of wonder crossing his face.

"None of these titles are in the library," he breathed.

"You've read every single book in the library?" I asked in disbelief. He really was a Ravenclaw.

He blushed hotly, but that didn't dissuade him from opening up his bag and shoving all the books inside. After zipping his bag shut, he paused and glanced at me. "This isn't stealing, is it?"

"Maybe, but who cares?" I said, turning away from him to look back at the writhing floor mark.

"Hey, what's that?" he asked, coming closer and looking over my shoulder. "Is that a rune?"

"What?"

"A rune, we've been studying them in Ancient Runes-"

"No, really? I'm shocked."

"-and this one looks familiar." He tapped his chin repeatedly, looking increasingly frustrated. "I don't have my runes book with me though, I didn't have the class today. I reckon I'll-"

The door was flung open, and both Connor and I looked up. A pretty girl with long, curly black hair strode in like she owned the room. She had big coffee-brown eyes with long lashes, chiselled features, and a strong jaw. After sizing up Connor and I, she proceeded to casually lean against the wall and ignore us. I noted that her robes were lined with green and silver-Slytherin colours.

Connor and I exchanged a mutual look of uncertainty, which is when the door opened yet again. I caught a blaze of blue hair as the lanky student stumbled inside, and groaned aloud.

"Not you," I complained.

Edward frowned at me. "Thanks, Victoire, I feel so welcome," he said sarcastically. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. "What is this place?"

"It's a room beside the Great Hall," I said sardonically. "What did you think it was, a magical place where we can all ride unicorns over a faraway rainbow?"

Ignoring me, Edward glimpsed the dark-haired girl in the corner and nodded. "Hello, Maia."

Maia raised her eyebrows, seemingly surprised he knew her name, and she briefly nodded back.

I concentrated on the strange mark, watching it shimmer on the ground. I tried poking it and even slapping it, but all that got me was a sore hand. At one point Connor covered it with his shoe and the rune vanished, but when he removed his foot it reappeared. Judging by the faint shrieks echoing in the room, there were still rampaging students and likely frantic teachers outside.

Bored, I took out my wand and started spinning it in one hand. Connor looked from my wand to the floor mark, and a smile broke across his face. As I registered what he was thinking, he gestured at the mark.

I lightly tapped the mark with my wand. For a moment, nothing happened. Then the black mark began flashing colours-red, white, brown, and blue-and morphed into the Hogwarts crest.

"What the hell?" I said.

The bright flashes of light prompted Edward and even Maia to come over and investigate. "What is that?" Edward asked in confusion.

"If you're going to be experimenting with spells, can I leave before one of us is killed?" said Maia in a bored voice.

"We're not!" protested Connor. "All we did was tap the floor with a wand!"

"On an unfamiliar rune," corrected Edward. "Wand magic is temperamental. You shouldn't have done that without a teacher's supervision."

"Oh, shut up!" I shouted. "How were we supposed to know it would go haywire?"

"Guys," said Connor nervously.

"Well, it's common sense," said Maia smoothly, flipping her long hair over one shoulder in a manner that reminded me strongly of Judy. "Poking around looking for a trouble is a Gryffindor trait though, so I suppose I can forgive you for your obstinate thinking."

"Excuse me?!" I yelled, my temper flaring. "Look, I don't know who the bloody hell you are, but I reckon insulting other people for no reason is a Slytherin trait!"

"That was an insult," pointed out Maia. "Sure _you_ don't belong in Slytherin?"

"If you're the embodiment of Slytherin, then I want nothing to do with that House!"

"Victoire and Maia, both of you calm down," ordered Edward, but it came out as more of a plea than a command. He was trying to speak over us without resorting to screaming.

Connor, who did not have such inhibitions, screamed, "Guys!"

We all turned to him, and in response he pointed at our feet. While we'd been arguing, a circle had been traced around us, a thin line of white carved into the floor. The circle was divided into four parts, and each of us were standing in a different section. Each section was glowing a different colour: mine was a fiery red, Connor's was alabaster white, Edward's was dark brown, and Maia's was powder blue. It took me a second to realize they were the same four colours that the Hogwarts crest on the floor was flashing.

As we stared at the floor in stunned incredulity, an ear-splitting squeak made us all turn around. On each wall, the brick in the very middle was glowing the colour corresponding with the section we were standing in. The brick directly in front of me was a shiny blood-red, and I swore I could feel heat radiating from it, despite the brick being several feet away. All the bricks had protruded a few inches from the wall, threatening to drop onto the floor.

I tried to step out of the circle, but found that I couldn't. When I raised my hand and pushed outwards, it was like an invisible wall had been placed around the circle's border. Even when I punched the wall, it didn't give way.

Connor turned back to the centre of the circle and squinted at the floor. "It's not the Hogwarts crest anymore."

We all spun around and looked back down at the mark. It was glowing just as brightly as ever, but it had reverted back to the original rune.

"I _know_ that rune," said Connor, his voice laced with frustration.

"Clearly you don't, since you can't remember it," said Maia. She was also staring intently at the mark, but her expression remained rather frosty.

I grimaced. "Even if we know what the rune says, it wouldn't help us get out of this circle."

"Perhaps we'd better-" began Edward.

What he was going to suggest, I never found out. Without warning, four beams of light shot out from holes in the protruding bricks. The lights were the same violent colour as the bricks they were emitted from. The red beam struck me in the hip and I collapsed, instinctively grabbing the inflicted area. My left hip burned as if it were on fire and I bit my lip to keep from screaming. An outburst of energy erupted from the mark in the circle, sending shockwaves through the floor and leaving cracks in the marble.

As the pain slowly faded away, I raised my head and discovered the other three students also on the floor. Connor had been knocked right out of the circle, sprawled on his stomach a few feet away. Edward was sitting upright, but he was rubbing his shoulder and wincing in discomfort. Maia's eyes were closed, and she appeared to be unconscious.

Edward looked over at me. "You okay?"

I slowly straightened, too shaken to think of a witty retort. "Yeah, I think so."

A moan sounded from Connor as he rolled over and sat up, eyes screwed shut. "Ow, ow, ow," he muttered. "Whatever that beam of light was, it hurt."

I crawled over to Maia and poked her in the side. When she didn't react, I extracted my wand and pointed it at her forehead. "Rennervate."

Her eyes flew open and she grimaced. "What-"

"You fainted," I said.

"Yes, I surmised as much," she snapped, rubbing the back of her neck.

I moved away from her and stood up. The room was completely destroyed. The rotting desks and chairs had crumbled to dust. Marble chips that had exploded out of the walls and floor now littered the ground. The bookshelf had toppled over and split into three pieces, leaving wood shards scattered around the area. The strange rune on the floor was gone, as was the carved white circle. Dust particles from the wreckage floated in midair.

The door burst open and I whirled around. Headmistress McGonagall stood there, gaping at the damage, with most of the staff behind her. I should have known the teachers would hear the explosions, but somehow that had slipped my mind.

"What on earth has happened here?" exclaimed Headmistress McGonagall.

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come. There was no way she nor anyone would believe what had actually happened. We didn't have any proof, now that the glowing rune had vanished.

"They had a duel," said Maia suddenly, rising up from the floor.

The headmistress' gaze switched from me to the Slytherin girl. "Who did?" she asked sharply.

"Weasley and Adler."

I froze, then fixed Maia with a death glare. Undeterred, she continued. "They got into an argument and started duelling. Lupin and I tried to stop them, but it got out of hand and then Weasley blew up half the room."

She gestured around the wrecked room for emphasis.

Headmistress McGonagall glanced at the rest of us for confirmation. Seeing no other choice but to play along, I shrugged and hung my head as if in shame. She sighed and said, "All right, Miss Weasley and Mister Adler, fifty points each from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and you will receive letters tomorrow informing you of the time and location of your detention. Now, all of you return to your dormitories while we clean up."

If I was being honest, I was a little hurt that she so easily believed I could blow up an entire room. It was a partial compliment too, me being only a third-year student, but it still stung.

"Headmistress?" asked Edward politely, adopting his prefect voice. "What happened earlier, when all the lights when out in the Great Hall?"

She exhaled. "It was a prank by Fred Weasley and Kyle Quinn. Apparently Mister Weasley's father asked him to test out a new product. For some reason he is under the impression that Hogwarts is his test environment rather than an institute of learning, a view I intend to correct at the earliest opportunity." She pushed her glasses further up her nose and strode into the room, the rest of the staff following behind her.

Taking the hint, we hurriedly left the room and walked down the hall. Once we were a respectable distance away, I turned to Maia and yelled, "Seriously, a duel?! You couldn't think of an excuse that _wouldn't_ land Connor and I a detention?"

"It was the first thing I thought of," said Maia. "No one would have believed Mr.-Hufflepuff-Prefect got in a fight, and I wasn't going to incriminate myself. Besides, the whole incident was your and Connor's fault anyway, so you both deserved it."

"That was not our fault, we didn't know the stupid rune was going to set off an explosion of light and colour!"

Maia shrugged. "What's done is done. Enjoy your detention."

She strolled toward the Slytherin dungeons without a backward glance.

"Well, nice meeting you," said Edward, shaking Connor's hand. Connor looked slightly bewildered by the overly formal gesture. When he turned to me, he surprisingly smirked and said, "You know, when you said the room was a magical place with faraway rainbows, you weren't that far off."

He left me sputtering in anger, even having the nerve to whistle as he headed to the Hufflepuff common room somewhere near the kitchens. My irritation increased when I noticed his blue hair had turned a cheery yellow.

Connor and I headed up the staircase, moving slower than usual due to the injuries we'd acquired in that strange room. It took us a full five minutes to reach the seventh floor. When we finally did, Connor was white-faced and panting, and I was sure I didn't look much better.

"Well, see you whenever we have our detention," said Connor when we reached a fork in the corridor. "Judging by Headmistress McGonagall's tone, I bet it's tomorrow."

"I already have a detention tomorrow," I mentioned. "I hope they're at the same time, then Professor Patil isn't going to be happy…"

"And that makes you happy?" questioned Connor.

"Cross teachers? Of course," I replied, walking off down the corridor. "See you."

When I entered the Gryffindor common room, the place was packed with feasting students. I assumed they brought up food from the kitchens after the prank had interrupted the Halloween feast. I spotted my darker-skinned cousin, Fred Weasley, with his best friend Kyle Quinn. The two first-years were animatedly retelling their prank to an enthusiastic group of older students. Rolling my eyes, I snatched a few orange cupcakes off the main table, devoured them quickly, and went up to the dormitories.

Luckily, neither Judy nor her cronies were in there; I really didn't feel like another confrontation with them just then. I seized my pyjamas and hurried into the bathroom, locking myself inside. I didn't usually take a shower two nights in a row, but my blood and sweat from Quidditch practice was starting to drip onto the floor and I felt like I'd been sprayed by a Mimbulus Mimbletonia, Professor Longbottom's favourite plant.

After taking off my school robes, I dunked my head under the running water and let it rush over me. As I soaped myself, the bar sliding over my skin, I couldn't help smiling. Until the soap skimmed my left hip, and a sharp searing pain pervaded the spot. I gasped aloud and dropped the bar.

I stared at the fallen soap disintegrating in the water, wondering what the hell had just happened. Then it hit me: my hip was where I got hit by the beam of red light.

I peered down and on my left hip, black as ink and looking as if it had been branded there, was a tiny stylized flame.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I woke feeling much more refreshed than usual. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, yawned, and looked around. Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor's beds were empty and their clothes were strewn about the room. Sunlight was streaming in through the dormitory windows, which I stared at in puzzlement until it dawned on me that I had slept throughout the entire night without suffering a single nightmare.

A grin split my face as I changed into my school robes. I had been doubtful about the Dreamless Sleep potion's usefulness, but it had worked wonders, and now I couldn't wait to get more from Madam Pomfrey. Grabbing my wand from my trunk and concealing it in my sleeve, I checked my schedule and belatedly realized that had I woken this late almost any other day, I would have been late to class. Today I was free until lunch, but it was already ten o'clock. I chuckled quietly; I never had to worry about waking up too late before.

I entered the Gryffindor common room, which was empty save for a few fifth years studying for Charms, judging by the various objects flying around the room. After ducking underneath a quill that came dangerously close to poking my eye out, I climbed out through the portrait hole and headed down the stairs. As I walked, the excitement I'd felt since waking up faded, and I recalled the events from last night.

A symbol representing fire was marked on my hip, the exact same location that the strange light beam had struck me the day before. Judging by the colour of the circle's section I had been standing in, red, it was clear the two were related. I recalled that the other colours had been white, brown, and blue, and I reckoned that Connor, Maia, and Edward had also been branded.

I stopped at the hospital wing and poked my head inside. Unlike yesterday, when the room was filled with patients, only Madam Pomfrey was inside, writing something down on parchment. Upon spotting me, she set her quill in its inkwell and smiled at me.

"Good morning, Miss Weasley," she said, smiling. "How was your sleep?"

"Brilliant, actually," I replied in high spirits. "That's actually why I came…to ask for more of the Dreamless Sleep potion."

Her smile slipped off her face. "I don't believe that would be a good idea," she said slowly.

"Why not?" I demanded.

"People who regularly consume the Dreamless Sleep potion and depend on it risk becoming addicted to its results," she said. "Overdosing on the potion will lead to unpleasant side effects and possibly death-"

"Can I have it anyway?" I interrupted.

Her mouth dropped open. "Did you not hear a word I said?" she sputtered. "About possible death from overdosing?"

"Yes, but I'll be careful; I need it!" I said desperately. "I was actually able to sleep last night."

She pursed her lips and analyzed me. I figured she was wondering how much she could trust a third-year student with ragged school robes, defiant blue eyes, blonde hair highlighted pink and blue, and was known to be unreliable and rebellious.

"What are your nightmares about?" she finally asked.

I stiffened. I wasn't ready to have this conversation; not now, possibly not ever.

"It'll help me determine whether I can risk giving you the potion again," she explained.

I exhaled loudly, avoiding eye contact. "They're about last Christmas," I muttered reluctantly.

Madam Pomfrey's face softened. "You've been having nightmares for almost a year now?"

I nodded. She sighed and reached into her cabinet, grabbing a round flask filled with the purple potion. She poured the contents into a large bottle and held it out. I moved to take it, but she stepped back.

"I'm attaching conditions to giving you this much Dreamless Sleep potion," she said. "First, only drink one mouthful before going to sleep every night. No more than that per day. Second, if you ever feel dizzy, nauseous, or otherwise unwell, come to me _immediately_. Third, don't let _anyone_ else know you have it; lock it securely. Understand?"

"Yeah, okay," I said.

Madam Pomfrey handed the bottle out to me, and my fingers closed around its smooth exterior. I took out the brown cloth she had given me last time and wrapped the potion inside it.

"Thanks," I said as I placed it in my bag.

"No problem, Miss Weasley, just be careful of how much you drink," she said anxiously.

"I'll be careful," I promised.

She still looked uneasy when I left the hospital wing. I understood her concern, but if I continued having so little sleep I suspected I'd die from exhaustion anyway.

I entered the Great Hall, which was sparsely inhabited. Taking a seat, I picked up one of the turkey sandwiches on the table. I was just about to take a bite when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I turned around and found Fatima standing behind me with a strained expression on her face.

It took me a few seconds to recover from my initial shock. She had never voluntarily sought me out before. "Yes?" I asked icily.

She extended an envelope bearing a wax seal. "Headmistress McGonagall told me to give this to you," she muttered.

I took it without saying anything. Fatima inhaled sharply and walked away. After shoveling some food in my mouth, I broke the seal. Unfolding the letter, I placed my fork down and read:

 _Dear Miss Weasley:_

 _Your detention will take place in the Astronomy Tower at 7:00 p.m. this evening. You and Mister Adler will be meeting Professor Sinistra there._

 _I have been informed by Professor Patil that you were supposed to have a detention with her this evening. Therefore, your detention with her has been moved to tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Headmistress McGonagall_

The paper crinkled as I shoved it in my bag, my mood turning sour. I didn't fancy having two detentions two days in a row, especially since one of them wasn't even my fault. Silently cursing Maia, I finished my lunch and stood up to go to Muggle Studies.

Last year, when all the second-years had to pick their electives for third year, I had picked Care of Magical Creatures because I liked animals, and Muggle Studies because it was rumoured to be an easy subject. So was Divination, but my uncles and aunts often told my cousins and I stories about the subject's crazy teacher, Professor Trelawney, so I opted not to take it.

I didn't regret my choices. The Muggle Studies professor, Professor Hill, was nice and could take a joke, no matter how sarcastically I said it. His only fault was that most of the time, his cheerfulness grated on my nerves. Arriving at the class's third-floor room, I picked my usual seat near the back and took out my quill, inkwell, and some parchment.

A few minutes later, Professor Hill sauntered in, a grin on his face. "Hello, Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs! Today we're going to be learning about a Muggle invention called 'automobiles', which some of you may have heard of."

It was impossible to know Grandpa Weasley and not know what automobiles were. He loved tinkering with them in the Burrow's garage.

"We're going to be focusing on how they work and what objects they use to run, like gears," said Professor Hill brightly. "Does anyone remember what gears are?"

Tobias Macmillan, the smartest Hufflepuff in third year, raised his hand. "Gears are small toothed wheels that work together to alter the relation between the speed of driving mechanisms and driven parts."

"Correct, five points to Hufflepuff! Now, all automobiles use gears in…"

This was usually the part where I would start to fall asleep, but I didn't. In fact, by the end of class I had even managed to take a decent amount of notes. Even Professor Hill had looked surprised, which amused me more than it should have. I left the room in high spirits, considering I had a detention later that night.

Right after Muggle Studies I had Charms with Professor Flitwick, who was nearly as old as Headmistress McGonagall. It was my second best subject after Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I never had much trouble with his lessons. Today he was teaching the class the Seize and Pull Charm, which I managed to perform correctly on my third attempt.

'Well done, Miss Weasley!" said Professor Flitwick when he spotted me conjuring the magic light rope and pulling the golden cup on my desk towards me. "I've never seen someone pick up the charm that quickly. Five points to Gryffindor!"

Behind him, I saw Judy with her eyes bugging out, her own cup still inanimate. I choked back a laugh and smiled at Professor Flitwick. "Thanks, sir."

He nodded, but before continuing on his path he said, "Don't forget you still owe me the Cheering Charms essay that was due two weeks ago."

My stomach dropped. I had completely forgotten about that. "Right. I'll finish it for next week, sir."

For the rest of class, I tried to write my essay, but it ended up being a jumbled mess of whatever I knew about the theory behind the Cheering Charm. Once class was over, I crumpled up the parchment and chucked it into the rubbish bin on my way out.

I was rubbish at writing essays and I knew it. Hexes, spells, and charms came easy to me, but when it came to writing stuff down, my mind went blank. I spent the entire dinner in the Great Hall trying to think of what I could write about in my essay, but anything I thought of was indecipherable and didn't make any sense. Giving up, I checked the time and, after dinner, headed up to the Astronomy Tower for my detention.

The twisting staircase was long and steep, and I was grateful I usually only had to climb it once a week for Astronomy class. By the time I reached the top, I was puffing out breaths of air. Looking up, I noticed Connor and Professor Sinistra were already there. Strangely enough, both of them looked agitated; Connor was shifting from foot to foot, and Professor Sinistra's eyes were darting around the tower nervously, as if she were afraid she was being watched.

"You're late," accused Professor Sinistra.

I looked at the clock behind her, which read 7:03 p.m., and struggled to resist the temptation to roll my eyes.

She turned around and gestured around the tower. "This place hasn't been cleaned by Argus Filch since last year." She raised her wand and conjured two mops and buckets of soapy water out of thin air. "You may leave once the entire tower is clean. And to ensure you use no magic, hand over your wands."

I sighed and removed my wand from my sleeve, placing it in Professor Sinistra's outstretched hand. Connor did the same. She gave us stern looks and trotted down the stairs.

I stared after her in confusion. In all my detentions, the supervising teacher had never left. I wondered what was so important that she would leave us unattended in the topmost Hogwarts tower.

"Is this what usually happens?" asked Connor. "The professor leaving the room?"

I whipped around to face him "You've never had a detention before?" Now that I thought about it, I really shouldn't have been surprised. No wonder he looked so unsettled.

"No. How many have you had?"

I shrugged. "Thirty? I lost count ages ago."

Connor grabbed one of the mops, drenched it in the bucket and started dragging it across the floor. When I didn't move, he frowned at me. "Er, are you going to help?"

"The teacher never leaves during a detention," I explained. "I'm not going to waste this opportunity by _working_."

"But Professor Sinistra's going to come back and ask why the tower's not clean," he pointed out.

I scoffed. "So? We'll just tell her we didn't finish yet."

Connor thought about it, then continued cleaning the floor. I rolled my eyes at his moralistic actions.

"You added highlights in your hair," he said suddenly.

I glanced at him bemusedly. "They were there last night."

"Yes, I noticed them, but I didn't know what colours they were because of the room's poor illumination."

"They've always been pink and blue, ever since I started dying my hair," I said shortly.

"Well, they look nice," he said awkwardly. I wasn't sure whether he genuinely liked them or was only saying so out of politeness, so I chose to ignore the compliment and continued standing idly at the top of the staircase. Connor half-heartedly lifted one shoulder and kept mopping the floor.

As I watched him, my mind wandered to the fire tattoo on my hip. "Hey, Connor?"

"Hmm?"

"When you went back to your dormitory last night, did you feel sore anywhere?"

"Yes, everywhere," he said. "Remember? That light beam knocked me halfway across the room."

I sighed. "I meant anywhere in particular."

Connor frowned in thought. "Maybe…but I can't remember the exact spot. There were various areas that really hurt at times. I almost visited the hospital wing, but when I woke up today I felt better and didn't give it a second thought." He glanced at me. "Why?"

"The light that hit me," I began. "It left a mark on me, and it's shaped like a flame."

He blinked. "Really? Where?"

In answer, I lifted up the hem of my robes and pulled one side of my pants down slightly, exposing the black mark on my hip. Connor looked at it appraisingly. "Wow, I reckon it's not a coincidence then," he murmured.

"What?"

"The writhing rune that was on the floor," he said. "I looked it up in my Ancient Runes textbook last night. It's the symbol for 'element'."

"Element…as in the four elements?"

"Yep. Which happens to include fire," he said with a nod at my hip.

"All four of us were hit by a different light beam," I said thoughtfully. "Maybe it marked all of us. Where were you hit?"

"Er, the middle of my back," replied Connor. "That's why I went flying across the room."

"Alright," I said, moving to stand behind him. "Take off your robes and shirt."

He twisted around to stare at me. "What if Professor Sinistra comes back? It'll look like we're snogging or something!"

"Or something," I agreed. "Don't worry, these stairs echo really loudly. You heard me coming up, didn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. He peeled off his robes, which sank into a heap at his feet. He only paused for a second before removing his white dress shirt, exposing the pale skin of his back. In the very centre of his back was a small black swirl-shaped mark, seemingly branded into his skin like mine.

"If it's supposed to be an elemental symbol, I'm pretty sure yours is air," I said, examining it closely.

"Hang on," said Connor. He walked over to a giant mirror hanging on the wall in the tower and stood with his back to it. After looking over his shoulder and stretching up on his toes, he peered at the mark. "Yes, I believe you're right."

"I bet Edward and Maia have a mark then, too," I noted. "Maybe you can talk to them?"

"Me?" asked Connor. "Why not you?"

"Because I hate Edward, and from my short interaction with Maia, I don't think I like her all that much either," I said.

He frowned. "Why do you hate Edward so much? Isn't he related to you?"

"Not by blood," I said tersely, not bothering to answer the first part of his question. "My uncle Harry's his godfather."

"Oh yeah, I forgot Harry Potter's your uncle," said Connor in awe.

"Hurray, I'm practically related to a god," I said sarcastically. "Stop trying to change the subject. And put your clothes back on."

He flushed and grabbed his shirt and robes. As he changed back into them, he said hesitantly. "I'm not good at going up to random people and striking up a conversation. Actually, I'm not good at talking in general. I communicate better through words; my writing skills are much better." Connor retied his tie around his neck and adjusted his shirt collar. "Why don't we go to the library and do some research on rune interpretations and the significance of the four elements instead?"

I rolled my eyes. Typical Ravenclaw, evading the real issue by hiding out in the library behind books. The mention of the library reminded me of the day before Halloween, when I had been going to do some research for my Herbology essay before being ambushed by Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor.

My Herbology essay…

What was it Connor had just said? _"I communicate better through words; my writing skills are much better."_

"I'll accompany you to the library on one condition,' I said abruptly.

"Huh?"

"Are you good at writing essays?"

"Er, yes," he said, looking at me warily.

"You're going to help me with my essay writing," I declared.

"Hold on a second!" he said firmly. "That's a completely biased deal. I'm probably going to be doing most of the research in the library since I don't think you've set foot in there this year."

"I've been to the library this year," I defended. "In September I had to shelve books for Madam Pince during detention."

"That doesn't count. If I'm going to help you write essays, you have to help me with something else."

"What, getting a girl?" I taunted.

"No!" he protested, his cheeks turning pink. "I want you to teach me all those offensive and defensive spells you're so good at. Practical magic."

I blinked at the compliment. I knew he had been rather impressed by my duelling skills two days ago, but I didn't know it had been that inspiring. It seemed like a fair trade though, so I grinned and stuck out my hand. "Deal."

He shook my hand firmly. "Deal," he repeated. "What time are you free tomorrow?"

"I have a detention at nine in the morning," I said. "How about noon?"

"Works for me," he replied. "Should-"

I held up my hands, effectively shutting him up. There were faint echoes of footsteps on the stairs, getting louder and louder with each passing second. Connor darted to the other side of the room, and I scrambled back to the bucket and quickly grabbed the other mop. By the time Professor Sinistra arrived at the top of the tower, we were both innocently washing the floor. She gave us a suspicious glare before crossing the floor and plopping onto a chair. As she passed me, I caught a whiff of Firewhisky on her breath. I smirked; no wonder she decided to sneak out during our detention.

* * *

The following Saturday morning, I hobbled to the library, flexing my fingers and wincing. Professor Patil must have been particularly irked when my detention time had been moved to this morning. I had to sort the old and new books on her bookshelf in the Transfiguration classroom, and when the bookshelf had toppled onto me she'd hardly reacted. Growling insults under my breath, I checked my surroundings warily before walking into the library. Judy's attack the day before Halloween made me rather paranoid of stepping foot into library.

Madam Pince eyed me suspiciously as I strode past her. I was early for my meeting with Connor, which was fortunate because I wanted to look for a few books before he arrived.

First, I went to the Herbology section and found a treasure trove of books dealing with plants. After browsing through scores of titles, I found a few containing information about the Carmine plant family. I stuffed them in my bag and moved on.

Stopping at the last aisle on left side of the library, I perused the various titles until I came to one that sounded like the one I needed. I pulled it off the shelf and double-checked the title, _Oneiromancy: The Meaning Behind Wizard and Witches' Dreams_ , before flipping it open. After scanning the table of contents, my eyes landed on _Dream Symbolization-Page 17._ I opened it to the correct page and sat down at the nearest table, ignoring the stinging pain this caused my legs.

 _Wizards and witches have long believed their dreams to be prophetic, whether as a scene in the future or an abstract representation of one. The study of oneiromancy involves interpreting the significance of certain symbols and situations occurring in these dreams, particularly the nonrepresentational ones. To the practiced eye, the signs in dreams can be put together to form a basic picture detailing the dream's conceptual message. Licensed Seers who choose to study the art of oneiromancy soon discover the complexities of this branch of magic, due to the conflicting images that often arise when deciphering the dream._

"Victoire?"

I jerked slightly and looked up to see Connor sitting across from me.

"Oh, hi," I said, quickly shoving the oneiromancy book in my bag.

He glanced at my bag curiously before refocusing on me. "I got here early, but I reckon we didn't see each other…" He trailed off. "What happened to you? There's a large bruise on your forehead."

I waved my hand dismissively. "A bookshelf fell on me during detention this morning."

He raised an eyebrow, but continued. "Okay… I already found a few books on the four elements, here…"

Connor then proceeded to dump about a dozen books onto the table. My eyes widened. "That's a _few_ books?" I questioned.

"For me it is," he shot back. He slid six across the table towards me. "Here, start with these."

I sighed exaggeratedly and opened the first book, _The Art of the Elements of Nature_. After leafing through the first few pages, I commented, "This book's just about the origins of the four elements. I didn't sign up for an extra History of Magic class!"

"But there might be information about the ramifications of being branded or at least associated with one of the four elements. Besides, the theoretical aspect must be fascinating as well," said Connor.

I gave him a look, which he ignored. He held up his own book, and I glanced at the title: _The Four Elemental Forces_. "This one's pretty interesting, but it doesn't have what we're looking for."

"What exactly are we looking for?" I asked.

"What symbols or tattoos of the four elements signify, and how they might influence us," he said promptly. "Since both you and I, and presumably Edward and Maia, were branded with the four elements, chances are the light beams were infused with the elements' power. If they were, there would be repercussions from us having been exposed to so much raw energy."

"O-kay…" I said uncertainly and picked up another book. I still didn't know what sort of information I should be looking for, and a part of me was wondering whether I wanted to know what side effects would be caused by our element tattoos.

Half hour later, we had both finished skimming through all the books and came up with nothing. Connor looked incredibly frustrated as he went though all the books' table of contents for a third time. "How can there not be anything about this?" he said.

I shrugged. "Maybe it's a new thing that's never happened to anyone before."

"Or maybe…" His eyes lit up. "There might be information in the Restricted Section!"

I stared at him. "We're third years," I pointed out. "We need a permission slip to look for books in the Restricted Section."

"Not fifth years and up!" he said excitedly.

"What are you suggesting?"

"You can ask Edward to look for us."

My jaw dropped. "You're joking, right?" I managed to say after a few seconds. "Edward and I aren't on friendly terms. If I ask him to do something for me, he's going to laugh in my face."

"If he's been branded with either the earth or water symbol, he'll want to know what it means too," said Connor.

I huffed in annoyance. Even though I was also curious as to whether Edward had been branded (which I was nearly certain he had been), I also didn't fancy seeking him out.

"Besides, when we parted ways with him, it seemed like you were on neutral terms," added Connor. "He was kind of teasing you about magic rainbows."

" _You're_ on neutral terms with him," I snapped, not liking the 'magic rainbows' comment. I wanted to forget that ever happened. "Why don't _you_ speak to him?"

"I only met the bloke yesterday-I can't just go up to him and ask him for a favour. I have bad speech skills, remember? Even if you hate him, at least you've known him for most of your life."

"True," I conceded. "But that doesn't make it any easier. I typically try to have as little contact with him as possible."

"Well, this is important," he insisted.

"Fine, I'll talk to him," I said reluctantly. "But if I talk to Edward, can you talk to Maia? I bet she's got a tattoo too, and she might want be involved with all this research."

"Sure," Connor agreed, though his countenance suggested he'd rather fall into a pit of lava. "If I can find her. I've never seen her before yesterday."

"That's actually pretty odd," I mused. "Slytherins tend to hang out in packs, yet Maia was alone yesterday." I gathered all the books I'd riffled through into a pile and shoved them towards Connor. "Are you going to check these out?"

He grinned. "They're not my type."

I stared at him for a while, until the joke clicked. "Did you just make a joke?" I demanded. It seemed so unlike him.

"Hey, I'm not just a Ravenclaw nerd," he said defensively. "I can be funny."

I felt a smirk tug at the corners of my mouth. "All right, jokester. Hilarious debut."

"In answer to your intended question, I think I will check them out," he replied, taking the books I had pushed towards him and holding them in his arms like a baby. "Even if it's not the information we were looking for, a bit of background reading on the subject is bound to be helpful."

I didn't consider a dozen books to be 'a bit of background reading', but I didn't dwell on it.

"So, do you want to work on your essay here, or somewhere else?" Connor asked me.

I tilted my head thoughtfully. "I know a better place, and it's quieter too. I'll show you."

We walked over to Madam Pince's desk near the library exit, and Connor placed the dozen books on the four elements on the surface. She eyed him suspiciously before waving her wand over the books and muttering a spell I didn't catch. After giving him the usual threatening speech about book vandalization (which I couldn't imagine Connor doing in a million years), I reached into my bag and produced the Herbology books and the oneiromancy book. After she scanned them, I took them back as quickly as possible and stuffed them into my bag before Connor could finish reading the titles upside-down. From the weird look on his face, however, I'm almost certain he managed to read the word 'oneiromancy'.

Luckily, he didn't press me about it, and we both left the library. I led him to the seventh floor, and stopped in front of a blank stretch of wall opposite a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. I closed my eyes and paced back and forth, thinking hard. _We need a quiet place to work on Herbology. We need a quiet place place to work on Herbology. We need a quiet place to work on Herbology._

"Er…Victoire, what are you-" Connor broke off after my third round, when a grand set of double doors shimmered into view. I grasped one of the brass doorknobs and beckoned him inside.

Inside, a cozy room with two armchairs and a table were placed in the centre, with a fireplace crackling merrily nearby. A plush red carpet covered the entire floor. Shelves of books dotted the opposite wall, and a glass cabinet filled with plants was resting in the far corner. The place was lit by a large yet delicate chandelier hanging overhead, bathing the room in a soft yellow glow.

Connor's jaw dropped open. "What is this place?" he breathed. "I don't remember it from reading _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Room of Requirement, or the Come and Go Room," I said, plopping down in one of the armchairs. "Dumbledore's Army used this place as their headquarters back in the Second Wizarding War. The user thinks really hard about what they want, and then the room will turn into exactly what they need. With some exceptions-I discovered it doesn't make food, for some reason."

"That's because food is the first of the five Principal Exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration," Connor said absentmindedly as he drifted over to the bookshelves.

"Er, sure…anyway, this room was destroyed by Fiendfyre near the end of the war, but apparently the magic was so strong in this room that it regrew a few months later and became usable again. My uncles and aunts told me about this place during their stories of the war, and I come here sometimes to-you're not listening, are you?"

"Sorry, what?" said Connor, looking up from the book he'd pulled down and started reading.

"Never mind," I mumbled.

He closed the book reluctantly and set it back. His gaze landed on the plants enclosed in the glass cabinet and he asked, "It's a Herbology essay I'm helping you on, right?"

"Today's, yes," I said, opening up my bag and pulling out a fresh sheet of parchment and my quill and ink. "The Charms one is due later."

He arched an eyebrow. "It was due two weeks ago, actually."

"Whatever-wait, how do you know?"

Connor looked at me in disbelief. "I'm in your class!" he exclaimed.

"You are?"

"I'm a third year Ravenclaw, remember?"

I thought back to my Charms class, and realized it _was_ a Gryffindor/Ravenclaw class. "Oh. I never noticed you."

"Obviously," he muttered.

"What other classes do we share?"

"History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Defense Against the Dark Arts I knew, since we were partners three days ago, but History of Magic was another surprise.

"I always sit in the front, and you always sit in the back, so that's probably why you never noticed me," he commented.

"So you noticed me?" I asked.

"Half the time you walk in late with a black scowl on your face, and stomp to the back of the classroom," he said lightly. "It's pretty hard to miss that."

I glared at him, and he continued, "But, you know, I don't think you're as scary as everyone makes you out to be. You just seem-I'm not sure. Tired? Lonely? A little angry at life?" He coughed. "You…kind of remind me of myself. Just a bit."

My glare had melted away and now I was simply staring at him in quiet astonishment. The words he had just said reminded me a lot of someone else's words, spoken what seemed like a long time ago. He fidgeted uncomfortably under my gaze and sat down in the other armchair. He took a look at the blank sheet of parchment in front of me and asked, "You didn't start yet?"

I blinked and shook myself back to the present. "I did, but it was complete rubbish, so I threw it out."

"Okay, so what exactly do you have to write about?"

"A comparison essay about the Carmine Carnivorous plant and another plant." I pulled out the Herbology books I'd checked out. "Would these help?"

Connor craned his neck and surveyed the books' titles. "Yes, they will! I've read them before-"

"Big surprise," I muttered.

"-and this one's really good, it delves extensively into the plants' history and natural processes in-"

"I get the point," I said brusquely. "This one's a good book to use." I set it aside and turned to him.

"Why don't you write your thesis and I'll check out the books on the shelf back there?" he offered.

I couldn't resist adding, "I thought they weren't your type."

"Maybe they are," said Connor thoughtfully. "I do prefer books over girls."

"Go look for your books then, jokester," I teased, picking up my quill.

A few minutes later, Connor returned with an armful of books. He sat down and read my thesis, a pensive look forming on his face. He opened up his palm to me, and I handed him my quill. After scratching out a few things and adding different words and phrases, he gave the parchment back. I read the improved thesis and blinked in shock.

"It sounds so professional now," I said.

He grinned. "I _did_ say I was good at essay writing."

"Wow. So now I just start writing?"

"Yep. Start each paragraph with a sentence that reflects the statement in the thesis, and outline the ideas in that particular topic. I'll look through these books for information you can include as examples and proof in your essay."

I nodded and took back my quill from Connor before settling into a more comfortable position. After taking a deep breath, I began writing.

* * *

"It wasn't that bad," noted Connor. "I only changed a couple spelling and grammatical errors, and you got a few concepts in the second paragraph wrong, but other than that it was pretty good!"

"Great!" I said, reading through it again. "Thanks, Connor." I had a feeling Professor Longbottom was going to be fairly happy with me this week.

He grinned happily. "You're welcome. About those duelling lessons, though…"

I checked the clock in the room and nearly gasped aloud. It was almost dinnertime, meaning we'd been in the Room of Requirement for nearly five hours. "My Quidditch match against Slytherin is after dinner," I said apologetically.

"No, that's fine. I was going to say I have something to do after dinner too," he said.

"Really? What?"

"Er…important stuff," he said nervously.

I raised a brow, but decided not to pursue it. If he wasn't going to bug me about the oneiromancy book, then I'd keep my nose out of his business. I simply nodded in acknowledgement and packed my belongings.

We left the room and started walking to the Great Hall together. Along the way, I spotted a girl with long curly black hair ahead of us. I grinned and barked out, "Maia!"

The girl kept walking, and Connor poked my arm. "Victoire, that girl is wearing Hufflepuff colours," he said pointedly.

I did a double-take, only now spotting her black-and-yellow cloak. "Oh. Right." I glanced at him. "Maybe you should hang around the dungeons tomorrow and wait for Maia to show up."

He snorted. "A Muggle-born standing near the Slytherin common room. That's going to go over well."

I started. "I didn't know you were Muggle-born."

"Is that a problem?" he asked slowly, eyeing me carefully.

"No, of course not," I said. "My grandfather is obsessed with Muggles. When my aunt Hermione, who's Muggle-born, married my uncle Ron, he nearly had an aneurysm."

Connor chuckled. "That would have been interesting."

"Besides, if you've ever met any Weasleys, you'll find that they're the most open-minded bunch of wizards and witches in the world."

"Well, you're the first Weasley I've met," he said. "And I already know the Slytherins aren't that accepting. So I think I'll just wait. I'm bound to run into Maia sometime."

"Me too," I said gloomily. "I never want to see Edward, but he somehow shows up all the time, like an annoying ghost." Then his words registered in my mind and I paused. "Wait a minute. What have the Slytherins done to you?"

He shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant. "Taunts, names like 'Mudblood', minor jinxes, stealing my belongings. It's not even solely because I'm Muggle-born-I hardly talk to people and I don't have any friends, so I'm like the perfect target for them to pick on."

"They steal your stuff?" I asked in disgust. Before he could respond, I said, "When I teach you those spells, remind me to cast anti-theft charms on your stuff."

"You can do that? Isn't that a N.E.W.T.-level charm?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"Right, you're a genius at spells and charms," he muttered as we entered the Great Hall. "Temporarily forgot."

"When should we next meet up to talk about all this?" I asked, gesturing toward the flame branded on my hip.

"History of Magic class on Monday?" he suggested.

"Sure, I always sleep in that class anyway," I said. Which was actually unfortunate, because I always had the usual nightmare and would wake up in a cold sweat to find class was over.

"I used to take notes, until I realized most of what Professor Binns teaches us is in the textbook," said Connor. "See you Monday, then. Good luck against Slytherin tonight!"

"We won't need it, but thanks for the support," I said, a tad arrogantly. He laughed and walked over to the Ravenclaw table. I sat down at the Gryffindor table, feeling happier than I've been in a long time. Since before last Christmas, to be precise.

I smirked as I started piling my plate with roast beef and horseradish. It was a little strange, considering I'd only met Connor three days ago, but I reckon he was my only friend right now, and vice versa. Bonding over light beams, detention, and element tattoos was quite odd, but then again, so were we.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 _I_ _looked skywards at the looming mountain before me, despite already knowing what was atop the peak. Sure enough, the two faceless girls clad in pink and blue dresses were yelling my name, over and over. Leaping onto the cliff face, I hoisted myself up, scrambling across the many handholds embedded in the mountain. As I neared the top, the girls stepped away from the edge and their screams were abruptly cut off._

 _"No!" I shouted. "Please, what do you want? Why do you keep coming back? Who are you?"_

 _A sudden gust of wind caused me to lose my balance, sending me head over heels in midair. Just before I struck the ground, two soft voices, carried by the breeze, whispered in my ear, "You know perfectly well who we are, Victoire."_

I bolted upright with a gasp. My hair clung to the back of my neck, and my pajamas were soaked in sweat. After quickly confirming Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor were still asleep, I gulped in great mouthfuls of air, breathing heavily.

My sleep had started off with the same nightmare I'd had for the past year, but the ending was different; I still fell off the mountain, but this time the girls had spoken a full sentence to me. I was wondering what had triggered the change in the dream, but the worse part was that after hearing their voices, I had an awful inkling that I _did_ know who they were. If I was being honest, I think I'd always known, but I kept ignoring the facts because they were, quite frankly, terrifying to consider.

I glanced down at my bedside cabinet, where I had locked away the bottle of the luminous purple Dreamless Sleep potion. I had followed Madam Pomfrey's advice and only drank a single mouthful last night, but obviously it hadn't worked-I had been able to sleep till past dawn, but still had the horrible nightmare. I resolved to consume more from now on before going to sleep, regardless of Madam Pomfrey's warning.

Raking a hand through my disheveled hair, I swung my legs out of bed and padded into the bathroom. As I brushed my teeth, I glimpsed myself in the mirror and grimaced. Despite the two nights of sleep I'd gotten, the dark bags under my eyes remained. It contrasted sharply with my brightly highlighted pink-and-blue hair, making me look like a Muggle clown. My pale skin was nearly translucent, with the blue veins showing, and when I attempted a smile, it looked very fake.

A loud groan sounded behind me. I took a step backward and looked back into the dormitory. Judy was sitting up, glaring right at me. Her long brown hair was tousled from sleep, but her eyes were alert, shards of frigid green glass.

"Why are _you_ awake now?" she howled. "You're always either gone or still sleeping."

The only time I was still sleeping was yesterday, but I supposed that was irrelevant. "If I knew you were going to be awake soon, I wouldn't have gotten up," I said scathingly, rinsing my mouth and placing my toothbrush back on the counter.

"Pity, then I wouldn't have had to deal with _you_!" she snapped, rolling out of bed.

"You'd still have to deal with yourself," I pointed out. "But I reckon that's bad enough-"

"Move!" Judy cried impatiently, shoving me out of the bathroom. I tripped over a stray shoe and nearly fell onto the floor. I shot a glare her way, but she had already locked herself inside. Exhaling furiously, I changed into my clothes quickly, desperate to escape the dormitory. After all the wailing she'd already done, I was amazed Fatima and Eleanor were still asleep.

The toilet flushed and Judy stepped out, catching me half-undressed. She gave me a once-over and sneered. "Might want to watch what you eat, Victoire."

I made a face as I tugged my robes on. "You're plumper than me, did you not know Judy? I reckon you haven't looked in a mirror lately, otherwise you would never leave the dormitory with a face like that. Makeup alone can't hide the imperfections."

She shrieked in anger and her hand moved towards her pocket, but she didn't take out her wand. I knew she knew I could easily outduel her. Instead, she said loudly, with a vindictive smirk, "At least people like me. People who aren't _dead_."

My self-control snapped and I whipped out my wand. Pointing it at her, I screamed, "Densaugeo!"

The spell hit her directly in the mouth, causing Judy to stumble backward. Her two front teeth started growing at an alarming rate, rapidly extending past her bottom lip. In the span of a few seconds, they looked more like elongated fangs than human teeth. She raised her hand to her chin, felt the pointed tips, and whimpered.

Bedcovers rustled behind me. I turned around to see Fatima and Eleanor sitting up in bed, staring at their friend in paralyzed horror.

"If you don't take her to Madam Pomfrey soon, her teeth are going to smash into the floor and break off. Which she deserves," I spat at them.

Before the two could move to help her, I dashed out of the dormitory, not wanting to be in there once the inevitable screaming started. Maybe I'd been overly hasty in cursing Judy, but we'd lost to Slytherin in Quidditch last night and I'd gone to sleep in a bad mood, thanks to 'accidentally' being ran into by David Parker, one of the Gryffindor Chasers. Judy has chosen a bad time to provoke me. My sudden appearance in the common room startled a pair of first-years playing chess near the fireplace, who yelped in surprise.

"Whoa, you scared us!" one exclaimed.

I glanced at the speaker and realized it was Fred. My cousin grinned at me impishly before saying, "Knight to E6."

The black knight advanced two spaces forward and one to the left, stabbing its tiny sword into the white king sitting in that spot. The king emitted a cry of pain and crumbled to pieces.

"Checkmate!" exclaimed Fred triumphantly.

Fred's opponent, who I now identified as his partner in crime, Kyle Quinn, sighed in disappointment. "Man, when's the last time I beat you?"

"First day of school on the Hogwarts Express," replied Fred. He turned to me and said cheerfully, "Morning, Victoire! Where are you off to?"

"Anywhere but there," I said, jerking a thumb towards the third year girl's dormitory.

"What happened?"

"Judy was being a git, so I hexed her."

He looked unsurprised. My ongoing feud with Judy and her cronies was near legendary in Gryffindor. "Oh. With what?"

As if in answer, the door swung open at that precise moment. Fatima and Eleanor were supporting Judy, who had her arms flung over their shoulders. They were practically dragging her out of the dormitory and through the common room. Her front teeth were now hovering just above her bellybutton, curving inward so as to brush the hem of her shirt. She gave me a dirty look as the trio slowly passed by us and exited the common room.

"Normally, that'd be downright scary, but since I suspect she deserved it, I'm impressed," said Fred finally.

"She did deserve it," I said harshly.

They waited. When I didn't volunteer any more information about why Judy deserved having her teeth hexed, Kyle said, "That's the Densaugeo hex, right? Fred, what if we incorporate it in the cat prank?"

Fred's eyes brightened. "That's brilliant!" he declared, taking a small notebook from inside the folds of his robes and adding a short footnote. I rolled my eyes; only Fred would keep a notebook on planned pranks. He eyed me and asked, "Won't Judy tell the professors about you hexing her?"

"I don't think so," I replied. "Otherwise I'd tell them about all the times she'd attacked me. We have like an unspoken code not tattle to teachers."

I perched on the edge of Fred's armchair as my mind drifted back to the fire tattoo on my hip. "Hey, about the Halloween prank-what exactly did you two do? I heard from Headmistress McGonagall that Uncle George asked you to test his new product."

"That's partially true," Fred admitted. "Dad made a powder similar to Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, except it covers a much bigger space and lasts longer. He also gave me a Hand of Glory and said to try using the powder at Hogwarts. He said to not let anyone know we had it, though."

"You sucked out all the lights in the Great Hall," I said. "And you didn't think anyone would notice?"

"We were hoping everyone would think the light just died or something," said Kyle. "But the teachers caught us sneaking away with the powder and the Hand of Glory."

I snorted in amusement.

"Hey, we almost got away with it!" said Fred indignantly. "We just-er-tripped over Mrs. Norris in the dark. She wailed loud enough to attract the entire Hogwarts staff. If Professor Longbottom didn't get to us first, I think Filch would've murdered us."

"You better not get yourself killed," I warned. "I'd hate to have to write a letter to every single Weasley explaining the details of some failed prank, and the extent of Filch's wrath."

"If that ever happens, can you write to my parents too?" asked Kyle, eyes wide. I couldn't tell whether he was serious or not, so I made a noncommittal grunt. I barely knew Kyle, plus the Quinns were Muggles, so I'd have no idea how I'd go about sending them a letter the Muggle way.

"At least we know the powder worked," commented Fred, standing up. "Nearly all the lights in Hogwarts went out for almost half an hour. Dad's preparing to stock it in the shop-he decided to call it Peruvian-Weasley Instant-Lengthy Darkness Expert Powder, or Pwildep for short."

The two of them began clearing their battered chess game. Most of the pieces were damaged beyond repair, and after collecting all the fragments they simply chucked them into the fire.

Kyle checked his watch. "9:00. It's time," he said to Fred, who nodded and extracted his wand.

"Time for what?" I asked, confused.

"Oh, we're just trying another prank," answered Fred. "You might want to avoid the area outside the trophy room for the next few hours."

Deciding that would be a good idea to keep in mind, I bid the pair good-bye and strode out of the dormitory. Since I didn't have anywhere in particular to go, I walked down several flights of stairs to the Hogwarts back entrance, and stepped outside.

Dry leaves crunched underneath my shoes as I walked across the expansive green, which I knew would be covered in a thick blanket of white snow in just a few short weeks. The heavy tang of pine stung my nose. The crisp air floated around me, bitter but calm. When I breathed out, a spherical cloud of oxygen puffed in front of my face, a sure sign of an approaching chill.

Since it was Sunday morning, I didn't expect to see anyone during my impromptu morning stroll. So I was unpleasantly surprised to see a figure lying near the edge of the Black Lake. As I approached, I recognized it as one Edward Lupin.

He was curled up on one side, snoring softly. His hair was brown, but whatever he was dreaming about must have been depressing because it was gradually turning navy blue. A sheaf of parchment was stacked beside him, threatening to blow away into the water. It probably would have done so already had it not been partially covered by a Potions textbook. His inkwell was on top of the textbook, but his quill was nowhere to be seen.

I was tempted to turn around and walk away, but Edward was dangerously close to the edge and no matter how much I hated him, I didn't want him to drown in the Black Lake when it was this cold. I also needed to be on his good side when I asked him for the favour Connor requested, and this seemed like as good an opportunity as any. After deliberating for a few seconds, I kicked him in the shin as hard as I could.

A groan sounded from him, and he pulled his leg away from me. His eyes, navy blue like his hair, fluttered open and locked onto mine. A confused look crossed his face and he quickly sat up as he absorbed his surroundings.

"What?" he said groggily. He squinted at my face. "Victoire?"

"You fell asleep," I said. "And nearly rolled into the lake."

Edward turned around. He peered at his proximity to the water until his gaze was snagged by the pile of parchment by his side. He swore under his breath.

"I came out here to work on my Potions essay! I must have fallen asleep," he cried, looking utterly distraught.

"No, really?" I said sarcastically. "Why didn't you work _inside_ the castle like a normal student?"

"Because the warmth was making me half-asleep," he muttered.

"You're the one who lectured me a couple days ago on sleeping properly. Follow your own advice before telling me what to do!" I growled.

He muttered something under his breath, likely another swear word. I looked him over and realized he was wearing a thin cotton shirt and slacks-certainly not fall attire. "Besides, you fell asleep in the cold too. Never mind drowning in the lake, you would have died of hypothermia. Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"I know you'd love it if that was what I've been trying, but no." He bent over to gather his belongings in his arms, frowning when he couldn't find his quill, and shivering the entire time. Taking pity on him, I waved my wand at him. A large blast of hot air descended around us, instantly raising the area temperature by several degrees.

"What?" I asked, irritated, when he stared at me in bewilderment.

"You stopped me from falling into the lake, and you just used the Hot-Air charm on me," he said slowly. "Why are you being…nice? It's not like you."

I grimaced. No point in denying it now. "Okay, you caught me," I confessed. "Connor and I wanted to ask you a favour."

"I didn't realize you two were friends," he commented.

"Let me finish!" I snapped. "During the Halloween prank, when you, me, Connor, and Maia were all struck by those light beams, where were you hit?"

He looked up, trying to remember. "I think it was my right shoulder."

I moved around to his right side and yanked down his shirt from the shoulder, revealing a black jagged triangle that looked remarkably similar to a pointed rock. Ignoring his protest, my mind whirred with this new information. Edward had been branded with the symbol for, presumably, earth, which meant Maia likely had the water tattoo. It must be true, everything Connor and I had hypothesized about the element rune being invariably connected with the symbols branded on us by the light beams.

Edward looked down at his shoulder. "What the-what in the name of Merlin is that?" He looked up at me. "Victoire, what's going on?"

"On Halloween night, the rune on the ground that disappeared meant 'element'," I explained, adjusting his shirt back into place. "Those light beams from the wall marked us with different elemental symbols. You've apparently been branded with the symbol of earth."

He looked at me in disbelief. "Seriously? And you have an elemental mark too?"

"Fire," I said, pulling the side of my pants down slightly to show him the engraving. "Connor's is air. And we reckon Maia has a water one."

"Wow," he said, almost reverently.

I fixed my pants and said, "So, Connor and I checked the library for more information on the four elements, but the books we read didn't-"

"You can read?"

"Ha-ha. Anyway, we couldn't find anything useful and Connor has some blasted idea that there might be useful books in the Restricted Section, but since we'd need a permission slip and you don't, he wants you to fetch them."

Edward blinked. "The Restricted Section? I've never been in there."

"But you're allowed to, which is why I'm bothering to ask you in the first place," I said with a sigh.

"Did Connor force you to ask me?" he questioned. "You sound pained."

"Sort of; in return he's going to talk to Maia and see if she has the water tattoo. Speaking of which, how the hell do you know her?" I was remembering Halloween night, when Edward was the last one to burst into the room and he'd greeted Maia by name.

"Maia Milden? She's also a fifth year, so she's in a few of my classes. Plus she's the adopted daughter of the Malfoys."

"Really? That's her?" I asked, stunned. I'd heard years ago from my uncles and aunts that Draco and Astoria Malfoy had taken in a girl whose parents were killed during the Second Wizarding War, but I had never learned her name.

"Yes, her parents were Branwell and Elaulka Milden. They weren't Death Eaters, but they were purebloods and major supporters of Voldemort during both wars. She does go by their name, though; her professors refer to her as Miss Milden."

Interesting. I made a mental note to tell Connor all this information, hopefully before he talked to Maia. Then I wondered whether Maia had inherited any of her parents' anti-Muggle views like the Slytherins who bullied Connor; maybe it wasn't such a good idea for Connor to talk to her, especially if she knew and perhaps even approved of her housemates' bullying. Now that I thought about it, she'd barely spoken to him.

"Will you go to the Restricted Section, then?" I asked.

Edward thought about it. "Will you kill me if I don't?"

"No, but I might consider torture to persuade you," I said thoughtfully.

He looked at me quickly, an uneasy expression flashing across his face. "I'm joking!" I said in an exasperated tone. I didn't hate Edward, or anyone, to _that_ extent. Not even Judy Fisher. "I don't practice the Cruciatus curse on Crup puppies in my spare time!"

"Right," he said sheepishly. "Er…so I'd be looking for books about the four elements?"

"Yep."

Edward gave me a tentative smile. "Alright, I'll go this afternoon," he conceded.

I blinked. I honestly hadn't expected it to be that easy-I had been expecting him to tell me to go away. "Oh, okay. Great." The word _thanks_ bubbled up in my throat, but I couldn't force it out. I didn't want Edward to think I was indebted to him-that wasn't the kind of power I'd like one of my enemies to have over me.

Edward stood up, hugging his belongings to his chest like a shield. He cleared his throat, and it suddenly dawned on me that it was the first time in a long time that we'd had an almost civil conversation, without any screaming and just a little sarcasm. I had to force myself to maintain eye contact with him, and noticed his blue hair was turning a…more _feminine_ colour.

"Your hair's pink," I said, effectively breaking the awkward tension in the air.

His eyes widened, and he automatically reached a hand to his head, as if to cover all his hair. "Oh, damnit," he cursed. "I've got to go fix this…I'll find you when I have the books!"

Edward sprinted across the field, back inside Hogwarts castle. I vaguely wondered why he had to leave to change his hair colour: he was a Metamorphmagus, weren't they able to change their appearance at will? I rolled my eyes-he was a prefect, no one was going to dock him points for having pink hair. Hell, I had pink and blue highlights and the worse I got was derisive looks from my fellow students. My stomach growled and I trudged back inside, now intent on getting to the Great Hall for lunch.

* * *

"Okay, so we may have…lost…to Slytherin yesterday," said Selma, choking out the words. "But we've still improved, and if they hadn't resorted to playing dirty then we'd have beaten them for sure! We should be proud of ourselves for not committing a single foul when they performed more than a dozen."

She was hovering above us on her broom, just above the goal hoops. The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, including myself, were suspended a few feet below, listening to her rant about the Slytherin's dirty tactics. As if we hadn't expected Slytherin to play unfairly.

"Does 'they' also apply to members of our own team?" I asked, shooting a glare at David. "Because the last time I checked, blatching was a Quidditch foul."

He held his hands up defensively. "You were in the way, Weasley. I didn't fly into you on purpose."

"Sure you did," I retorted. "If you'd managed to knock me off my broom, you'd be hailed as the hero of the team. Why would anyone resist the temptation?"

"Maybe if your attitude towards us improved, no one would want to," he fired back.

I opened my mouth, but Selma cut in. "Hey, hey, hey! My rule for Quidditch is no fighting amongst team members, regardless of personal feelings. Is that clear?"

David and I nodded, mine coming rather reluctantly. Selma fixed her gaze on David and said, "David, I'm not going to ask whether or not you flew into Victoire on purpose, but either way, we are a team and teams don't ram into each other. We should all be aware of everyone's general location at all times, both for safety and strategy."

Karla yawned discreetly. Selma was busy spouting the team rules and missed it, but I caught her and silently fumed.

Selma clapped her hands together. "Okay, let's get to practicing! I want to see the drills performed with more ease and swiftness today. Jeremiah, I know yesterday it was raining and it was difficult to see the Snitch, but there will be other matches where it's raining and you're going to have to adapt. Nellie, keep an eye on all three opposing Chasers during matches, even if one's on the other side of the pitch-you never know when they might fly over to assist their teammate. Victoire, Karla, David, and Elliot, you all did great. Just _please_ try to get along." Her tirade ended with a pleading note.

I exchanged mutual looks of loathing with the three as we flew off down the pitch. We wouldn't be getting along anytime soon, that much was certain. Jeremiah and Nellie looked away nervously as I flew past them, and I exhaled in frustration. Was I really that terrifying? According to Connor, I was to everyone but him. I tightened my grip on my Beater's bat as Selma released the balls into the air.

One of the Bludgers came straight towards me. I swung my bat at it, producing a satisfying cracking noise as it swerved to intercept Karla, who had caught the Quaffle. It clipped her shoulder and she cried out, dropping the Quaffle. I smiled viciously and flew off to find the other Bludger. It was zooming near the goal hoops, hurtling towards Nellie.

I raced over to her side. She was dodging it, but the constant movements were clearly tiring her out and she wouldn't be able to keep it up for much longer. I positioned myself in front of her and smashed my bat against the Bludger, sending it towards Elliot.

I turned around to find gazing at me in surprise. A light tinge of pink was covering her cheeks. "Th-thanks," she stuttered.

"Don't mention it," I said, carefully watching the drill. Elliot barely avoided the Bludger by rolling underneath his broomstick, which seemed to be his trademark move. Clutching the Quaffle tightly, he whizzed closer. Selma aimed a Bludger at him from near the edge of the pitch, but it missed by a couple feet. Out of desperation, I hurled my bat at the projected trajectory of the Bludger.

As my bat started to fall, the Bludger crashed right into it. The bat was sent spinning, flying out of the pitch and fading from sight. The Bludger collided with the speeding Elliot, who didn't see it until it was too late. It struck him in the side, pushing him off course by several feet, and he let out an audible "oomph". The Quaffle fell from his limp hands. David tried to catch it, but he didn't make it in time and the red ball plummeted onto the ground.

Selma stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled sharply. "Time!"

We flew over and congregated around her. She grinned at me. "First off, Victoire, I wouldn't advise that during a game, but that doesn't diminish how amazing that was, not to mention the fact that your unorthodox method actually worked."

I grinned in response-I couldn't quite believe it, either.

"You might want to retrieve your bat, though. As for the rest of you…"

Selma continued talking as I sped out of the pitch. Spiralling downwards, I found my bat resting atop a clump of evergreen trees. I braked beside it and picked it up, running a hand along its length. Additional scratches now marred the surface and it was slightly dented on the left side, but it was worth it to see the look of astonishment on everyone's faces. Besides, the bat didn't even belong to me.

I tucked it under one arm and rejoined my team in time to hear Selma ask, "Elliot, do you need to go to the hospital wing?" Only then did I notice he was wheezing, drawing in painful-sounding breaths. He was being supported by David and Karla, who were pressed against his sides, keeping him upright.

"Maybe…got the wind…knocked out…of me," he rasped unsteadily.

"Go," said Selma, sounding concerned. "I'll call off the rest of practice for today."

Elliot nodded. Karla and David began slowly nudging him lower, in the direction of the castle entrance. As they passed me, Karla hissed quietly but angrily, "You're a sadistic b-!"

"Sod off!" I snarled.

Selma coughed, drawing my attention away from the trio of Chasers. She looked at me intently and said with some concern, "Victoire, Elliot's injury isn't your fault. You didn't know the Bludger would hit him that hard."

"Yeah, whatever," I muttered. "I don't care."

From the look on her face, it was obvious Selma didn't believe me, but she thankfully dropped the subject. "Well, you're all dismissed. I've booked the pitch again for this Thursday afternoon, at 2. See you then."

"Isn't our next game on Wednesday?" asked Jeremiah.

"It is, we're playing Ravenclaw," confirmed Selma. "But they've booked the pitch for tomorrow and Tuesday, and Hufflepuff snagged the Wednesday slot. It doesn't matter-we're ready. Ravenclaw doesn't play dirty like Slytherin."

With that said, the four of us flew back down to earth. Selma picked up the Quaffle, which had landed in a mud puddle and was now dripping brown earth. She extracted her wand and said calmly, "Scourgify."

Soap and water immediately splashed onto the Quaffle's surface, magically scrubbing the ball's surface. After a few seconds, its veneer was polished and reflecting the sun's rays with a lustrous sheen. Selma managed to conjure all the balls back into the trunk before levitating it back into its rightful place.

We headed back inside the changing rooms. I finished pulling off my Quidditch robes first, stuffing them inside the nook in the wall. After shoving my Beater's bat inside the wardrobe, I slung my bag over one shoulder and my Firebolt over the other.

"See you around, Victoire," said Selma as I opened the door, nodded at her, and left.

After trekking back up to Gryffindor Tower and depositing my broomstick, I decided to get started on my Charms essay. Hopefully I could finish it in time to have Connor revise it for me before Charms class next Friday. I retrieved my Charms textbook from my trunk and left the dormitory. The common room was bustling with students, and the noise level was steadily increasing. Realizing I wouldn't be able to concentrate in there, I left through the portrait hole.

I descended the stairs to the third floor and walked into the library. Since there were no classes on Sunday, most of the larger tables were full. I scanned them and found one in the corner with only one person sitting there. Crossing the room in quick strides, I sat down and dropped my Charms book on the table. I briefly glanced at the lone person sitting with me and with a start, I recognized her as Maia. I double-checked her robes-green and silver-before focusing on her face. She was absorbed in her own essay writing, occasionally brushing a strand of black hair from her face.

"Maia!" I hissed.

Her quill stopped moving and she looked up. "Weasley," she said curtly.

"Did Connor talk to you yet?"

"Why would Adler talk to me?"

"We needed to ask you something," I said urgently. "It's about Halloween night-"

"Oh, please," she snorted. "Are you going to whine about how I landed you two in detention?"

"It's not about that! You know the light beams that burst out of the wall and hit us?"

"I'd like to forget that ever happened," she said, tapping her fingernails against the wooden table.

"But it was important! It marked us-Connor, Edward, and I, probably you too-with symbols of the elements, and Connor thinks there may be side effects to having been branded by it. That rune that was on the floor apparently means 'element' and since there's-"

"I'd like to forget that ever happened," Maia repeated. She stood up, the chair's legs scraping against the tiled floor. The unexpectedly harsh sound made me flinch. "We were all tired and panicked, and thought floor lines-not runes-were moving, and lights were attacking us."

"You think it was all a hallucination?" I asked incredulously.

"The events that took place in there were merely figments of our overactive imaginations," she said.

I stared at her. Her brown eyes were narrowed at me, and I could tell she believed what she said, despite the absurdity of her claim. I fought the temptation to reach across the table and slap some sense into her, and instead whispered harshly, "Then how do you explain the wrecked room afterwards? You _know_ something happened that night, and trying to convince yourself otherwise isn't going to work!"

"This conversation is over," said Maia blandly, ignoring every word I said. She grabbed her parchment and quill, neatly packing them in her bag. "I must be going. See you later. Or not-I don't care either way."

She turned on her heel and marched out of the library, leaving me sitting there, simmering in frustration. I had also wanted to ask her what her views on Muggle-born wizards were, but if she didn't even believe her recollections of Halloween night, I didn't see the point.

I wanted to scream after Maia, make her see reason, but Madam Pince would no doubt give me detention for the rest of the year. All I could do was pray that she would find the mark on her own and realize that the events of Halloween night weren't delusions-I feared that they were much more real than we thought.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

I ate the last piece of sausage on my plate and wiped the grease off my mouth with my napkin. As I crumpled up the napkin, I started to yawn, but quickly suppressed it by pressing my lips together tightly. I had nearly overslept again due to drinking a larger quantity of the Dreamless Sleep potion before going to sleep. Fortunately, I had anticipated this and set an alarm the night before, courtesy of a spell I had memorized a while ago.

I gazed around the Great Hall. Most of the students were still eating breakfast, but the majority of the professors had gone to set up their classrooms. Deciding I may as well get to class on time for once, I stood up and walked out of the hall. Just after crossing the hall threshold, I nearly collided with another student running into the hall and just barely managed to stop, inches away from him.

"Bloody hell-watch where you're going!" I snapped before looking up and realizing it was Edward. His face was flushed and he looked guilty for almost crashing into me. Again.

"Did you run here?" I asked.

"Yes, I overslept," he said ruefully. "I had to stay up late to finish that Potions essay. But actually, I'm glad I ran into you, Victoire. Here-"

He shoved a small, leather-bound book at me. Taking it, I flipped it over to reveal a deep purple cover, emblazoned with the words _The Element Codex_ in a shiny yellow font.

"It was the only book about the four elements in the Restricted Section," said Edward. "I skimmed through it. There isn't much, but it details the basic information and some of it I didn't know, so I thought Connor would appreciate reading it."

I frowned, staring at the cover. "If it only has basic information, why was it placed in the Restricted Section?"

"There's a few…grisly passages and images in there," he replied, looking a tad queasy. "Witches burning to death, suffocating Muggles, that sort of thing."

"Oh, interesting," I said as I opened the book and came upon a picture of drowning wizards. Their arms were held high above their heads, and their mouths were opened wide enough that I could almost hear their screams of terror, which unnervingly sounded like the two girls from my recurring nightmare.

"How is that _interesting_?!" exclaimed Edward in a strangled voice. "They're dying!"

"Wha-I meant interesting as in, that makes bloody _sense_ now!"

"It didn't sound that way," he said defiantly.

"Well, that's what I meant!" I shouted. "Do you think I _want_ wizards to drown in the-" I briefly checked the caption- "Aegean Sea? To drown anywhere? To _die_ anywhere?"

"I didn't mean-"

"Well, it sure sounded like you did," I said, emphasizing the spite in my voice.

Edward was silent for a while. Finally, he said slowly, "This element tattoo thing…we're probably going to have to work together, at least for a little while, to figure all this out."

"Unfortunately," I sighed. "I don't like it anymore than you do."

"But we can still cooperate," he said. "It'll be easier for both of us if we at least try to get along, without frequent shouting matches." He took a deep breath and extended one hand. "Truce?"

I tilted my head and studied his earnest expression. As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. We couldn't work together if we were constantly at each other's throats. "For now," I conceded, and shook his hand once before withdrawing mine rather quickly.

We shared an awkward look, and Edward cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'd better hurry if I want to eat before class, so…" he trailed off.

"Good-bye," I finished for him, stepping around him and continuing down the hall. When I glanced back, he had already walked inside, disappearing from my sight.

By the time I reached the History of Magic classroom, I was surprised to find I was actually early. The only students inside were two Gryffindor boys, Samuel Jones and Zach Finnigan, sitting near the windows, and Connor, who was sitting at the very back reading a book. When he looked up and caught sight of me, he waved me over.

"Hey jokester," I said, taking a seat beside him.

Connor raised an eyebrow. "Er, is that my official nickname now?"

"Yep, you're stuck with it," I stated. "Why are you sitting at the back? I thought you always sit at the front."

"I figured that if we're going to be talking throughout Professor Binns' lecture, it would be best not to sit in front of his nose," he replied, eyeing the book in my hands. "What's that?"

"Oh, Edward gave it to me just now; he went to the Restricted Section yesterday and said this was the only book in there about the four elements," I said, handing it to him.

He put down his other book and eagerly took it, his expression akin to a boy getting free candy. As he pored over the pages, he asked, "So you actually held a friendly conversation with Edward?"

"'Friendly' is pushing it. I think 'civil' would be a better term," I mused. "He has the earth tattoo, so-"

A shadow fell over us. Connor and I glanced up to find Judy sneering down at us, with Fatima and Eleanor right behind her. Her eyes swept over Connor, and she smirked.

"This your boyfriend, Victoire? You must be really desperate if you're resorting to losers now."

"Does it look like I'm resorting to you? If it does, I'm sorry about your lack of common sense," I said dryly. "By the way, your teeth looked better yesterday."

Judy's smirk quickly transformed into a look of rage. "You think you're superior to everyone because you know some fancy spellwork?" she hissed. "Well, you're wrong. No one likes freaks who don't have any friends."

"I'm her friend," Connor interjected, causing me to glance at him in surprise. I figured we were friends by now, but hearing him-or anyone, for that matter-stick up for me was so rare that I couldn't help feeling stunned.

"Did I say you could interrupt?" said Judy condescendingly. "You don't count as a human being."

"Don't talk to him like that! Now sod off, unless you'd like slime-covered teeth to fit your bloody personality!" I snapped, letting my wand slide down my sleeve and gripping it where she could see it.

Judy scanned my face carefully, trying to determine whether I was bluffing about knowing that particular spell. As a matter of fact, I _was_ bluffing, but it looked like Judy believed me. Finally, she sniffed, lifting her nose in the air, and strutted away.

As Fatima and Eleanor hurried after her, Connor asked, "Is she always like that?"

"Yeah, you sorta get used to her after sharing a dorm with her for more than two years," I said offhandedly. Professor Binns floated through the blackboard at the front of the classroom, and I reached down to pull my textbook from my bag.

"Thanks, though," said Connor softly. "For, er, defending me."

I shrugged. "Well, you're not a loser-you seem pretty cool for a Ravenclaw bloke. Plus, I've got another essay I need help with…"

"And there's the catch," he joked.

"Besides, you defended me too," I pointed out. "When Judy said no one liked me."

"Well, you're not a freak-you're okay for a Gryffindor girl," he said.

"Not sure about the non-freak part," I remarked. "With that flame symbol branded on me, I feel like one."

"Good morning, class," droned Professor Binns. "Today we'll be covering-"

"Muffliato," I said, having slipped my wand fully out of my sleeve and into my hand. "Now no one can hear our conversation."

"That's useful," said Connor, looking impressed. "So, I read through the books I got from the library yesterday, but like I mentioned, they didn't tell me any relevant information that isn't inherently obvious. They basically all summarized the same thing: the four elements, fire, air, earth, and water, are believed to be the essential qualities that make up life. They reflect the principles of which anything can comprise, or upon which the constitution and fundamental powers of everything are based. This was postulated by the ancient Greeks after-"

"Connor," I interrupted. "I didn't come to History of Magic to hear you prattle on about the history of the four elements. Get to the point."

"Well, it _is_ a history class."

"Connor…" I said warningly.

"Right," he said sheepishly. "Er, the books discuss the origins and facts about the four elements, but they don't say anything about the effects of symbols. And it doesn't look like this one does either," he added, nudging _The Element Codex_ with his fingers.

"Based on what Edward said, it's the same basic information, just with hideous pictures," I supplied. "Does that mean there's not even one bloody book in the entire school with the information we need?"

"I don't know," said Connor in a frustrated voice. "But as you correctly pointed out on Halloween, I'm pretty sure I've read nearly every book in the library. Perhaps a professor or the Headmistress has possession of one?"

I didn't even hear the last half of Connor's answer. As soon as he said the word "Halloween", my mind had flashed back to that night and I jolted as if I'd just been hit by a knockback spell. Connor looked at me in alarm.

"Halloween night," I breathed.

"The night we were branded? What about it?"

"You confirmed you've read practically the entire library after you grabbed those books off the shelf! Did you read those yet?!"

His eyes widened in understanding. "No. After putting them in my bag I added them to the book queue under my bed." At my puzzled look he clarified, "I have a list of books I'm planning to read. But I'll check tonight whether any of those books are about the four elements," he said. "Thanks, Victoire, that's brilliant!"

I blinked. "You're welcome," I said after a moment.

"Er, before we were interrupted by your 'friend'," said Connor, making air quotes with his fingers and causing me to emit a noise of protest at him calling Judy my 'friend', "you said Edward has the earth tattoo?"

"Yeah, it's on his right shoulder."

"So we're running on the assumption that Maia has the water symbol imprinted on her somewhere," said Connor thoughtfully. "Since I'm going to be talking to her, I did some background research."

"You did what?!"

"Oh, I didn't ask the Slytherins, if that's what you're thinking," he said hastily. "I talked to a few older Ravenclaws, though they seemed shocked that I possessed functioning vocal cords."

I snorted in amusement.

He grinned. "Anyway, Maia Milden is a fifth-year pureblood Slytherin student, daughter of deceased Branwell and Elaulka Milden, adopted by Draco and Astoria Malf-"

"I know all that already," I said.

Connor stared at me blankly.

"Edward told me her background, plus all my relatives loathe the Malfoys," I explained. "So when the Malfoys adopted her, I heard the whole story-I just didn't know it was Maia. I also happened to run into her yesterday in the library."

"You went into the library voluntarily?" he asked in mock horror.

"Very funny." I outlined my confrontation with Maia yesterday.

Connor sat back in his chair and thought about it, a pensive look crossing his face. "That's a slight setback," he admitted.

"A _slight_ -!" I lowered my voice; it was only the second time I'd used the Muffliato spell and I didn't want to accidentally break it. "She's a part of all this, whatever this is, and she's tricking herself into thinking she's delusional!"

"I'll talk to her later," he said. "She'll come around."

"You didn't see her," I said. "Once I mentioned Halloween night, she basically pretended I wasn't there. Also, her parents supported Voldemort because they were pureblood supremacists. Maia uses their surname. What if she shares their views?"

Connor froze-clearly that hadn't occurred to him. "We don't know for sure, and I don't want to accuse her just because she's pureblood and Slytherin," he said hesitantly. "Also, from what I heard, she's really popular with blokes, including Muggle-borns, so she at least doesn't hate them outright. So let's proceed as planned."

I eyed him in surprise. Considering he hadn't even wanted to talk to Maia in the first place, that was pretty brave of him. He was risking being shut down by yet another Slytherin for being Muggle-born.

We were quiet for the rest of class. Connor continued reading through _The Element Codex_ , while I listened to Professor Binns for a few minutes before falling asleep. I was woken when Connor poked me in the arm with the sharp end of his quill.

"Ow!" I hissed, rapidly drawing my arm away from him.

"Sorry, but class is over," he whispered.

I raised my head and belatedly realized he was right. We were the only ones left in the room. Even Professor Binns had left.

"Do you usually sleep that heavily?" asked Connor as I packed my things in my bag. "I called your name three times."

"Not always, but I was dreaming," I muttered, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

"Oh, I thought you might have been," he said. "You were twitching, and at one point it sounded like you said 'wait'."

I laughed uncomfortably. "That's weird," I commented, making a mental note not to fall asleep in class near a friend again.

We exited the classroom, with Connor still clutching his quill in one hand and _The Element Codex_ in the other. "How far did you get into the that?" I asked, gesturing to the purple book.

"I finished it, but it wasn't much help," he answered in a disappointed tone. "Like I speculated earlier, it was simply a more horrific version of the other element books I've got up in my dorm and-"

I slapped a hand over Connor's mouth and pointed down the hall. Directly ahead of us was Maia, presumably heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Connor's eyes widened and after exchanging meaningful looks, we both took off to catch up with her.

Our running footsteps slapping against the floor drew her attention, and she glanced backwards. Upon seeing Connor and I, Maia whirled back around and started half walking, half running to get away from us. But this time, I wasn't planning on letting her go so easily. After a quick look around to make sure no teachers or students were nearby, I pulled out my wand and aimed at her back. "Stupefy!"

Maia keeled over onto the floor, and Connor shot me an annoyed look. "Did you really have to Stun her?"

"After I tutor you and you master the spell, you can cast it," I offered.

"I think I'll pass."

I smirked before waving my wand in her direction. "Mobiliarcorpus." Maia's prone form rose into the air, and I levitated her into the nearest empty classroom. I had a sudden recollection of Fatima doing nearly the exact same thing to me, when Judy had orchestrated my ambush-I wasn't sure whether I should be elated or worried by that fact.

After setting Maia down on a desk, I locked the door behind us with a quick Collorportus. Connor gestured at Maia and asked, "You do know that when she wakes up, she's going to kill us?"

"Relax. She's a Slytherin-she'll recognize that we made a tactical, strategic decision to talk to her." At least, I hoped she would. I approached her and pointed my wand at her. "Rennervate," I said warily.

Maia sat up so fast I flinched back. Her dark eyes were narrowed into slits and her mouth was set in a snarl, giving her a slightly demonic appearance. This effect was enhanced by her black hair billowing around her face. When she turned her glare onto Connor, I could practically see him withering under the heat of her angry stare. "Explain," she barked at us.

"You wouldn't listen to me yesterday,' I said as calmly as possible. "All four of us-you, me, Connor, and Edward-experienced the same things in that room Halloween night. Unless we all happened to hallucinate the exact same things, it actually happened!"

"Okay, so let's say it happened," said Maia scornfully. "So what? Some light rays hit us and-"

I pounced on that. "Exactly! When they hit us, it left a mark on all of us!" I exclaimed. "They're inked symbols of the four elements, and we think you have the water tattoo."

Maia hopped off the desk. "Are you sure they're from that night? They could be from anywhere-for all I know, you were cursed by Fisher."

"Judy can't cast a proper spell to save her life," I shot back. "And I'm sure. I only found the tattoo after the spot stung from my soap, and that happened the same night."

Her nose wrinkled. "Well, I wish you luck," she said with a touch of sarcasm.

I frowned. "What?"

"It seems to be a Gryffindor trait," she said loudly, "believing there's something bigger behind every little unusual thing, seeking adventure and glory. Isn't that what got your uncle Harry's godfather killed?"

"You mean Sirius Black?" I asked in disbelief. For a moment I wondered how she knew all this information, but then I remembered-her adopted grandparents were the Malfoys, who were in league with Voldemort. He must've gloated the news to them.

"Yes. He died when Harry Potter thought he had to go rescue him," she said mockingly. "Potter as good as killed him."

My mouth dropped open. "It wasn't his fault!" I yelled in my uncle's defense. "It was Voldemort that sent him false visions, and of course he was going to go if he thought someone close to him was being tortured! Plus, it was Bellatrix Lestrange that cast the curse that ended his life, after Voldemort sent his Death Eaters after them! Everything bad that happened during that war, all the innocent lives that were taken, was Voldemort's doing!"

Maia had unexpectedly recoiled. As I wondered what I'd said to garner such a reaction from the seemingly emotionless Slytherin, her impassive expression returned and she strode around me to the door. Pulling out her wand, she said "Alohomo-"

"Expelliarmus!" I quickly shouted.

Her wand flew out of her hand, and I deftly caught it.

"Give it back, Weasley," she ordered.

"Why? For you to walk away from whatever's happening to us?" I retorted.

"Nothing. Is. Happening!" she yelled. "You're taking a minor event and blowing it out of proportion! You may have roped Adler and Lupin into your fantastical misinterpretations, but I'm not playing along. Now, _give me back my wand_."

"Don't give it to her," said Connor suddenly, walking over to stand beside me. Maia stared him down, but he met her gaze.

"Victoire did not _rope_ me into anything," he said firmly. "I'm on her side because she's telling the truth-something _did_ happen that night and that's why we're working together to figure it out. Edward Lupin's a prefect, do you really think he'd help us if he didn't think we're telling the truth?"

"He's practically related to Weasley here-" began Maia.

"They don't get along, and I know you know that!" shouted Connor. "Hogwarts may be infused with magic, but even here it isn't normal for light to shoot out of the walls and strike students! In case you don't recall, you were _knocked unconscious_. That's obviously a sign of powerful magic, something beyond regularity, and no one hallucinated that-Victoire had to revive you! As crazy as it may sound, it's obvious something happened that night, and trying to convince yourself otherwise isn't going to work. If you don't believe me, or rather all three of us, you can check the water symbol tattoo that I'm one hundred percent certain you have branded somewhere! I'm a Ravenclaw, you can't accuse me of having a Gryffindor complex or whatever your problem with that House is. But I do know that the rune meaning 'element' and the four element symbols we suddenly developed on our skin from those light beams aren't a coincidence, which is why I'm doing more research into the subject. All _four_ of us are a part of this, and considering you're a part of it, it's your duty to, as you put it, play along!"

Maia and I stared at him in silence. I hadn't expected Connor to blow up like that, but I supposed everyone had a breaking point. My gaze flicked between Connor and Maia, waiting for her reaction to his outburst.

After a tense minute, Maia stirred and said, "The back of my neck."

"What?"

"That's where I was hit by the light." She turned around and pushed her hair to one side, exposing a black smudge on the back of her neck. Connor and I stepped closer to get a better look. It was shaped like a cresting wave, with a tiny curl at the tip.

"That's definitely a symbol for water," said Connor.

Maia let go of her hair, letting it spring back to its natural wave down her back. "Okay. So?"

"So it confirms all our theories," I said. "Everything links back to the four elements."

"I've borrowed a few books from the library on the four elements, and Edward got us one from the Restricted Section, but there isn't much information in them," added Connor. "I'll read through the books I got from that room later on tonight. Perhaps we should organize a date and time we could all meet?"

"Tomorrow after lunch in the library," stated Maia.

I looked at her in surprise. "That works for me," I said slowly.

"Me too," said Connor.

Maia plucked her wand from my grip and left the room without another word. Shrugging off her odd behaviour, I turned to face Connor.

"That actually went better than I expected," he said.

"At least she believes us now," I said. "Speaking of which…for someone who claims to have poor speech skills, that was a pretty impressive tirade."

He blushed hotly. "I, er, thanks?"

"Yes, that was a compliment," I said. "Anyway, are you free after dinner tonight? We could get started on those duelling lessons I promised you."

"Oh, right. Yes, that works," said Connor, looking thrilled.

"Don't look so excited," I told him. "If you want to start casting the same spells I can, I'll have to really run you through the mill."

"It'll be worth it in the long run," he said, though a slightly apprehensive look crept onto his face.

I shrugged, now smirking. He should have known what he was asking for when he wanted me to teach him-I'd been practicing increasingly difficult spells since last year and it would take a long time for him to catch up. Fortunately, Connor seemed like a quick learner.

"Glad you feel that way," I said as we left the classroom and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. "I don't know how long your optimism will last, but who knows?"

"Hey, we persuaded Maia to meet with us again," Connor pointed out. "Anything is possible."

* * *

I walked down the second floor hallway, checking each door I passed. I needed to talk to Professor Jaron, and according to Selma his office was located on this floor and was easily recognizable by his office door's unique bronze tiger doorknob.

Finally, I found it near the end of the hall, next to the rarely-used staircase that had been irreparably damaged in the war. I reached out to twist the doorknob, but to my shock the tiger growled at me. I hurriedly withdrew my hand, and the tiger said clearly, "Password?"

"Er…" Selma hadn't told me I needed a password. Why the hell would Professor Jaron need one? As far as I knew, only the Headmistress' office had a password. I thought about what I knew of Professor Jaron and guessed, "Gryffindor?"

A bright red spark flared from above the doorway and a Stinging Hex was fired at me. The hex struck my right arm and I yelped, more in shock than pain. After scowling at the growing welt on my arm, I glared at the tiger. "Tiger."

The red spark lit up again, but this time I expected it and managed to dodge the hex. "Defense. Shield. Teaching," I said, weaving from side to side to dodge the constant barrage of Stinging Hexes. I could have sworn the tiger was glowering at me with its stone eyes.

"Miss Weasley?!"

I turned around to see Professor Jaron pacing towards me, a mixture of surprise and amusement on his face. "I'm terribly sorry," he said once he reached his office door. "There's an alarm that alerts me if a student is standing outside my office door, but I only hear it if I'm inside, and I was at a staff meeting. Runespoor."

The doorknob rotated with a sharp click and swung open.

"Runespoor?" I asked curiously. I walked inside and looked around his office. It was a typical professor's office: desk in the corner covered in stacks of parchment, strange goblets filled with bubbling draughts on the bookshelf, several chairs scattered around the room, and large windows overlooking the castle grounds.

"It's a three-headed serpent from my native country, Burkina Faso," explained Professor Jaron as he took a seat behind his desk. "They look dangerous, but they're really quite fascinating creatures. Of course, they're still dangerous, but it's tempered by their unique characteristics."

I sat in the chair beside the wall. "And why does your office need a password?"

He laughed. "It doesn't. I'm studying the spell placed on the gargoyle in front of Headmistress' McGonagall's office and I modified it so that it attacks the witch or wizard trying to break in. According to the portrait of Professor Dumbledore, former students used to stand outside his office and keep guessing different candies in hopes of correctly guessing the password."

"I was still able to do that," I mentioned. "Keep guessing, I mean. Not the candies part. I had to keep dodging the hexes for each wrong guess, but it was possible."

Professor Jaron nodded thoughtfully. "It's a work-in-progress, but I'll keep that in mind. I'm also trying to fix it so that it fires a variety of hexes and jinxes, not just Stinging Hexes. I change the password at irregular intervals, and the only ones who know are the other professors. So for now, the current version is adequate." He folded his fingers together and fixed me with a questioning look. "So, Victoire, what did you wish to ask me? I'm assuming it's not a request for aid with spells, seeing as you're one of my most talented students?"

I grinned at the compliment. "Ha, no. I was wondering if you have any books on advanced spells?"

He raised an eyebrow. "How advanced are we talking about?"

"About N.E.W.T. level."

Now it was Professor Jaron's turn to grin. "So the sort of books not easily found in the library, then. I have a few of those that I bought as extra copies for my sixth and seventh years, especially those looking into careers dealing with the Dark Arts." He extracted his wand and with a casual gesture, half a dozen books zoomed off his bookshelf into his outstretched arms. He proffered them to me, and I gingerly let him dump the pile into my arms.

"Keep them for as long as you want," he said. "I discovered all my N.E.W.T. students were very responsible and bought their required books, so I have no current use for them."

"That's great," I said. "Thanks, sir."

"You're very welcome, Victoire," he replied. After a moment's consideration, he asked, "Have you ever considered a career related to Defense Against the Dark Arts? I realize you are only thirteen, but you show such an aptitude for the subject I thought I'd ask."

"Yes, actually," I answered. "I want to be an Auror."

Professor Jaron tilted his head. "Would this choice have anything to do with the breakout from Azkaban last year?" he asked.

I looked at him suspiciously, but he seemed genuinely interested, so I said carefully, "The Ministry's going to have a tough time rounding up all those escaped Death Eaters again, and I want to help them."

"That is very admirable, and I have no doubt you'd be a fantastic Auror," he praised. "Is that what all these books are for?"

"No, these are actually for Connor," I said. "We made a deal, and I'm teaching him duelling. Intermediate to advanced hexes and the like."

"Connor Adler?" he questioned, sounding surprised. "I wasn't aware that you two were friends."

"We weren't, but I reckon we are now."

For some reason, Professor Jaron looked thrilled that we were friends. Now that I thought about it, it was him who had made Connor and I partners last Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I wondered whether it had been his goal to engineer our budding friendship, and if so, why he would care so much.

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat with you, I have a tutoring session in a few minutes," said Professor Jaron apologetically. "And I'm afraid, Victoire, that you are the last person who would need to attend."

I stood up, positioning the books against my hip. "That's alright, Professor. I'd better go too."

"Feel free to drop by anytime," he called out as I left the classroom. I nodded once over my shoulder and closed the door behind me. When I turned to step forward, I found myself face to face with Connor.

" _Merde_!" I cried, jerking back but managing to keep my grip on my newly acquired books.

A confused look appeared on his face. "What?"

"Oh, it's a French swear word. Since my mother's French, my siblings and I have picked up quite a few over the years," I explained. "Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to ask Professor Jaron a quick question before my duelling lesson with you," he replied. "It will only take a minute, so if you don't mind waiting…"

"No, go ahead," I said, waving him inside. "The password's-"

"Runespoor, I know," he said. The door opened and he walked inside, leaving me frowning after him.

I leaned against the wall in contemplation. Professor Jaron had said only the staff knew the password to his office. So how did Connor know it was runespoor?

Maybe he'd come here recently enough that the password hadn't changed yet. But he'd sounded so certain that it hadn't, and Professor Jaron had mentioned that he changed it irregularly.

When Connor returned, I decided to ask him. "How'd you know the password?"

"I came here yesterday," he said quickly.

That sounded very evasive, but I let it slide. We headed up to the seventh floor, and approached the blank stretch of wall concealing the Room of Requirement. As I paced back and forth in front of it with my eyes closed, I thought hard, _We need a place to practice duelling. We need a place to practice duelling. We need a place to practice duelling._

"It's there," said Connor.

I opened my eyes and found the door shimmering into view. I grasped the handle and wrenched it open, revealing an expansive space with a towering ceiling. Medieval-style arches curved along the ceiling and were supported by flying buttresses that projected onto columns dotting the walls. Stained glass windows in a myriad of colours stretched from the top all the way down to the ground. The tiled floor was a pattern of sepia-tinted mosaics that clinked under our footsteps.

"Wow," said Connor, his voice echoing in the massive room.

I couldn't help grinning. "This is perfect."

Just as I wished there was a place I could drop my armload of books, a coffee table materialized beside me. I immediately dumped the pile and my bag onto it, causing the table to emit a groaning sound as it adjusted to the weight.

After Connor dropped his own bag onto the floor, he picked up the first book in the pile and squinted at the cover. " _Spells for the Advanced Duellist_?"

"For later," I said, rummaging through the pile of books until I found an intermediate-level one that looked more appropriate. Opening it, I scanned the table of contents and opened it up to a page-long description of Expelliarmus.

"This is a good spell to start off with," I decided. "It's simple and useful."

Connor peered over my shoulder, trying to read the description, but I slammed the book shut. "The theory's not going to help you with learning spells," I said. "Only practice-lots of it-makes perfect."

After shooing him to the other side of the room, we both raised our wands. "Now, cast Petrificus Totalus on me," I told him.

"Petrificu-"

"Expelliarmus!"

His wand sailed out of his grip, and I snatched it in mid-air. "Basically it makes your opponent's wand fly out of their hand," I explained. "If you can successfully cast the spell on them early on in a duel, the duel will obviously go in your favour. The downside is that Expelliarmus is easily blocked, but we'll worry about that later." I tossed his wand back to him. "Now you try."

Connor fumbled the catch but didn't drop it. His cheeks turned pink, and he pointed his wand at me. "Expelliarmus."

Nothing happened.

"Say it like you actually _want_ the spell to work," I ordered.

"Expelliarmus!"

My wand twitched in my hand.

"That wasn't bad for a beginning attempt," I said lightly. "Keep trying."

* * *

Connor eventually called it quits as our curfew approached. I wouldn't have minded staying out past curfew, but it was obvious Connor wasn't comfortable with doing so, and he did look exhausted.

"You did manage the spell a few times," I praised as we left the Room of Requirement.

"The last time you weren't even paying attention," he protested, panting slightly. "You were looking out the window."

"I thought I saw a hippogriff fly by," I defended myself. "How was I supposed to know a hippogriff-shaped cloud of dust would just happen to drift by?"

He laughed quietly. The faint sound seemed unnaturally loud in the twilight silence of the castle.

"Oh, hang on," I said suddenly, stopping in the middle of the hall. Connor paused and glanced at me curiously. I extracted my wand and reached around him to tap his bag, muttering a few choice spells under my breath.

"I just remembered I'd promised to put anti-theft charms on your stuff. Now if anyone other than you or me takes something from your bag, an alarm will go off," I told him.

He grinned. "Thank you! I can't wait to see the look on the next Slytherin who tries to riffle through my bag."

"Does that happen a lot?"

"Depends on your definition of a lot," he answered vaguely. "They usually steal something from me once a month. I suppose to some students, that would be a lot. But I think those Slytherins prefer to target other, richer Muggle-borns, much more often."

"The next Slytherin I see is getting hexed," I said firmly.

"You have my full approval unless it's Maia," said Connor. "Since we're trying to stay in her good books."

"Technically, I already hexed her anyway," I mused. "Does Stupefy count as a hex?"

"I think it's a charm-"

"Victoire? Connor?"

We both whipped around to find Edward surveying us. Despite the fact that he'd called our names, the Hufflepuff prefect looked more rattled than us.

"You know, when we agreed to a truce this morning, that didn't mean I wanted to see you more than once day," I said. "What are you doing here?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "I'm doing my prefect rounds-I never said I wanted to see you, either."

"Victoire said you were branded with the symbol for earth," Connor spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension. "We talked to Maia this afternoon, and confirmed that she has the water tattoo."

Edward focused on him. "Really?"

"Yes, so we arranged for all of us to meet tomorrow in the library after lunch," said Connor. "I'll be bringing the books I took from the room we accidentally destroyed."

"Got it," said Edward. "You two _are_ heading back to your dormitories now, right?"

"What, you think we're off to snog in the nearest classroom?" I taunted.

Edward's hair turned red, and I swore his eyes glowed crimson as well. "No, I just want to make sure you're not out past curfew again," he said.

That time he caught me hadn't even been my fault. I knew he didn't know that, but it still irritated me that he felt the need to bring it up. "I'm touched that you care so much for my well-being," I said sarcastically.

Connor's gaze bounced between Edward and I, like he was watching a table tennis match.

"If you'd open up your eyes for once, maybe you'd find that there are people who do care about you," said Edward, his harsh tone contradicting his statement.

"Maybe, but you sure as hell aren't one of them," I retorted. "So you can go about your own life, and I'll worry about mine."

Ignoring my last remark, Edward said stiffly, "Off you go, then," and stalked off. As I watched him leave, I flashed back to the temporary truce we'd made this morning. It wasn't broken-we hadn't yelled at each other-but I had a feeling that it would be a lot harder to maintain that I'd originally thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

A poorly aimed jinx sailed past my ear. I quickly turned around and caught sight of Lena Harper's stupid giggling face behind me, a few rows back. She smirked at me and whispered something into the ear of the girl sitting beside her, Gwyneth Travers, who laughed out loud. Suppressing the urge to send them both a retaliatory jinx, I settled on giving them a death glare, then focusing on transfiguring the spoon Professor Patil had given to me.

"Snufflifors," I said, tapping my wand against the spoon. With a flash of pink light, the spoon quivered and morphed into a mouse, which squeaked in alarm and began racing around the surface of my desk. When I looked at it closely, I noticed the mouse's fur still held faint traces of metal, but it was still better than the majority of the class' attempts so far.

"Very good, Miss Weasley," said Professor Patil as she walked by my seat, giving me a tiny smile.

"Thanks, Professor," I said in surprise. Maybe she felt bad about last Saturday, when her bookcase had fallen on top of me during my detention.

At the end of class, only a handful of students had managed the spell successfully. Those who hadn't were assigned a foot-long essay on the theory of the spell, which amused me until she informed the rest of us that we had a foot-long essay on the practicality of the transformation. With an audible groan, I returned my mouse to Professor Patil and left the classroom, managing to walk a few feet away before a snide voice called out, "Leaving so soon, Weasley?"

I stopped and glanced back. "I've got better things to do than talk to Slytherin tossers like you, Harper."

She strutted towards me confidently, with Gwyneth Travers right beside her. Lena hadn't approached me since early September, when I'd sent her to the hospital wing for a week after pelting her with an unhealthy combination of hexes, but it looked like her apprehension of me had worn off. Lena raised one plucked eyebrow and retorted, "I doubt you do anything more worthwhile."

"You know, I promised a friend yesterday that I'd hex the first Slytherin I saw," I said, now facing her fully. "Lucky for you, your ugly face was the first thing I saw when I walked into class this morning."

"A friend?" scoffed Lena. "You don't have any new friends, not since your old ones got themselves killed."

A red haze of fury descended over my vision. I was vaguely aware that my temper was getting the better of me, but I was so angry that I was long past caring about the students milling around us, or the consequences of duelling in the middle of the hallway. Yanking my wand from my sleeve, I slashed it in a downward arc in the air and shouted, "Defodio!"

The floor beneath the two Slytherins' feet cracked, splitting the stones apart, and both Lena and Gwyneth leapt aside. The two pulled out their own wands and started firing a barrage of spells at me. Both were mediocre duellists, but I had never fought two people at the same time before. Fending off two students at the same time turned out to be more difficult than I'd expected.

After dodging the first few spells, I yelled, "Protego!" A shining silver light expanded from my wand and formed an impenetrable shield between myself and the two Slytherins. The spell had taken me three months to perfect, but as Lena and Gwyneth's jinxes and hexes bounced off the shield, I decided it had been well worth the effort.

Lena, unfazed by the high-level spell, cried, "Serpensortia!" I didn't recognize the spell, and was shocked when a live snake shot from the end of her wand. It dropped to the ground and slithered close to the shield. When it failed to pass through, it began jabbing at it with its extended fangs, over and over again. Cracks began spider-webbing over the surface of the shield. I swung my wand from Lena to the snake and shouted, "Incendio!"

Bright orange fire, hotter than I'd expected, poured out of my wand in a blazing gush of heat directly at the snake. The reptile burst into flames and crumbled to ashes in a matter of seconds. I stared at the fire, waiting for it to extinguish, but to my bewilderment it continued to burn.

"What the hell?" I murmured. I'd only put a little power into the spell, just enough to set the snake on fire, yet it was the strongest inferno I'd ever cast.

My attention was torn from the strange phenomenon when Gwyneth fired a Leg-Locker jinx that finally shattered my shield, splintering it into a million crystalline pieces. I quickly deflected the jinx and cried, "Tarantallegra!"

It was a very basic spell, but it worked. The spell struck Gwyneth in the chest, and her legs immediately began wriggling out of control, causing her to topple over. Her wand fell from her grasp and rolled away. Grinning in triumph, I turned to Lena, my wand still smoking from my previous Incendio spell. Now that her friend was incapacitated, a little fear had crept into Lena's grey eyes.

"Scared, Harper?" I taunted.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her raised wand trembled slightly. "Melofors!"

I easily sidestepped the jinx and screamed, "Stupefy!"

Lena tried to twist out of the way, but the red jet of light clipped her shoulder and she went down hard, hitting her head on the floor. I smirked and flourished my wand with a twirl before tucking it back into my sleeve.

Only then did I notice the attention our hallway duel had garnered. A bunch of Gryffindors and Slytherins from the Transfiguration class I'd just left were staring open-mouthed at me, with a few passerby Hufflepuffs whispering disapprovingly in the corner. A few seconds later, Professor Patil skidded around the corner and came to a dead stop, staring at the scene before her. I took a step back to inspect what it must look like from her point of view.

The floor had fractured, with sizable stones scattered around the jagged fissures I'd created when I'd blasted the ground apart. Somehow, the fire I'd cast earlier was still ablaze, as if I'd set up a miniature campfire before the duel. Scorch marks from missed spells flecked the walls. Gwyneth was struggling to get up, her legs still moving about uncontrollably, and Lena was lying unconscious.

Professor Patil overcame her shock and took out her wand. "Aguamenti!"

A jet of water erupted from her wand and doused the flames. The fire hissed as it died, but the ashes of the dead snake continued to smolder. Professor Patil turned to me, her lips pressed into a thin line, and I knew instantly that any remorse she might've felt towards me was gone.

"Miss Weasley, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"They insulted my friends," I answered instantly.

She sighed and waved her wand at Gwyneth. "Finite Incatatem." Gwyneth's legs stopped moving and she picked herself up off the floor to retrieved her wand, glaring at me the whole time. Professor Patil nudged Lena's limp arm, then snapped her fingers.

"Mister Jugson, Mister Emery, please carry Miss Harper to the hospital wing," she ordered. "Miss Weasley, follow me."

Two Slytherin boys who had been watching us duel hurried to obey her order. I trudged after Professor Patil as she led me through the castle, ignoring the curious looks from passing students. At one point, I thought I saw Maia, but when I did a double take all I caught was a flash of black hair disappearing around a corner. I shrugged and kept walking after Professor Patil, whose pinched expression was growing more annoyed with every hall we crossed.

Eventually we stopped outside the gargoyle blocking the entrance to Headmistress McGonagall's office. I supposed I had either been given detention by my Transfiguration teacher one time too many, or hallway duelling was a more serious transgression than I'd originally believed.

"Felidae," said Professor Patil.

With a harsh grinding noise, the gargoyle shifted aside to reveal a hidden staircase, which immediately started rotating upwards. We moved onto the steps and continued up the same direction it was going until it came to a shuddering halt outside a large wooden door.

Professor Patil rapped her knuckles against the door. "Come in," said a voice that I was pretty sure belonged to Headmistress McGonagall.

Professor Patil opened the door and I followed her inside, taking a moment to marvel at the sheer size of the large, circular office. It was only my second time here, the first being the day after everyone returned from the Christmas holidays last year. During that visit, I hadn't been paying much attention to my surroundings.

Headmistress McGonagall was standing behind her desk, pulling a green shawl over her shoulders. "Padma," she said, sounding surprised. "I thought-I mean, I was expecting Rubeus."

"I'm so sorry for interrupting, Minerva," Professor Patil apologized. "I wanted to have a chat with you about an incident involving Miss Weasley."

She gestured at me with one hand, and Headmistress McGonagall's sharp eyes focused on me. "I see. In that case, Padma, you may accompany Rubeus and I and tell me about this incident, and Miss Weasley, you may stay here. We're simply taking a quick trip to the Forbidden Forest and it won't take long."

Another knock sounded on the door, and Professor Hagrid stomped inside without waiting for an invitation. "They're all ready, Headmistress," he said gruffly.

"Thank you, Rubeus," replied Headmistress McGonagall. As the three exited the office, she glanced back at me. "Miss Weasley, please try not to destroy anything in here. I'm particularly fond of this office, and I would hate to return and find it in ruins."

"Yes, ma'am," I said, not quite certain whether she was teasing me or not.

The door closed behind them and I eagerly started exploring the inside the office. There were numerous glass cabinets that held unfamiliar potions, a small table bearing gadgets that I recognized as Dark detectors, and a shallow bowl filled with a strange swirling liquid. On top of a wooden bookshelf resting flat against the wall sat the Sorting Hat, looking as ratty as I remembered it from my first year. The rest of the wall was also covered by bookshelves, which were overflowing with books. The huge windows provided an extensive view of the Hogwarts grounds, from the Quidditch pitch to the gated pathway to Hogsmeade. I peered outside and caught a glimpse of three figures, one quite obviously Professor Hagrid, striding purposefully into the Forbidden Forest.

When I moved into the other section of the office, my attention was snagged by the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts lining the walls. Most of them were sleeping, or at least pretending to be, judging by their overly loud snores, but the one that hung directly behind the Headmistress' chair was staring straight at me.

"Hello," said the portrait of Professor Dumbledore.

"Hi," I said cautiously.

"You seem very familiar," he said thoughtfully. "Are you, by any chance, Victoire Weasley?"

"Yeah. I came here once before, last year."

"I see," he said, his bright blue eyes twinkling down at me. "I'm hoping the circumstances are different this time?"

"Professor Patil caught me after a hallway duel," I admitted.

"Ah, that explains your interesting state of dress."

I looked down and realized the hem of my black robe was singed, leaving uneven trimmings still glowing molten orange. I must have accidentally trodden on the smoldering remains of the dead snake.

I swore under my breath and hastily patted my robe until the orange glow faded. As I did, I frowned in thought; if I had walked onto the smoking carcass, wouldn't I have gotten, at the very least, minor burns on my feet?

When I straightened again, Professor Dumbledore was wearing an amused look on his face. "You seem puzzled, Miss Weasley," he said cheerfully.

"I'm just not sure how my robe caught on fire," I said. "I was the one who cast the Incendio spell, but the fire was a lot more powerful than usual, even though I deliberately put less power into it."

Professor Dumbledore's forehead creased as he pondered my question. "It isn't difficult for a witch or wizard to alter the amount of strength they pour into a spell, so for your fire to be stronger after putting in less power is very odd indeed," he mused. "The only reason I can think of is that your magic suddenly grew much stronger."

I looked at him in confusion. "Is that possible?"

"Not by itself," he said. "But if there was an accident or something similar that may have triggered the abrupt change, then the possibility grows more likely. Has anything like that occurred recently?"

The connection then became so obvious that I felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. My fire tattoo had been caused by a strike of light, and now my fire spell was stronger.

I debated about whether or not to tell Professor Dumbledore this. None of us had told Headmistress McGonagall about what really happened in that room Halloween night, and perhaps because of this Connor and I hadn't discussed the possibility of informing any of the teachers about our tattoos. For whatever reason, everything that had happened to the four of us felt like something we ought to keep to ourselves, at least for now. Professor Dumbledore wasn't technically a teacher anymore, considering he was dead, but I felt it would still be odd to confide in a portrait.

"…I don't think so, sir," I finally replied.

Professor Dumbledore gave me a measuring look, but accepted my answer. I shifted uncomfortably, wondering whether he could perceive that I knew more than I was telling him. "In that case, I shall think more about what may have caused your sudden surge of power," he said. "In the meantime, I advise you to be careful, Miss Weasley. Dark forces are stirring, and your news of such unprecedented events are worrying me more than they should."

After those cryptic remarks, he fell silent. I wandered back into the main part of the office and reached into the bowl of toffees sitting on the side table. I popped one into my mouth and examined the Dark detectors lying beside the bowl. Since my dad worked as a Curse-Breaker, coupled with his paranoia leftover from the war, my family had quite a few detectors scattered around the house. I recognized the Foe-Glass, Sneakoscope, and Secrecy Sensor, but not the fourth one, a small glass sphere with swirls carved into its multiple planes. It looked a bit like a tiny, crystal Muggle soccer ball.

Half a dozen eaten toffees later, Headmistress McGonagall returned to her office alone. Shoving the toffee wrappers into my robe pocket, I looked up from where I was seated on the set of stairs.

"Thank you for waiting so patiently, Miss Weasley," she said dryly as she crossed the room and seated herself at her desk. "Please take a seat, Professor Patil has already explained to me what transpired in the hall between you, Miss Harper, and Miss Travers."

I reluctantly sat down in front of her. She picked up a small tartan tin I hadn't noticed from her desk and held it out towards me. "Have a biscuit."

"Er, thanks," I said uncertainly, placing my hand inside and withdrawing a chocolate biscuit.

Headmistress McGonagall folded her fingers together and looked at me sternly as I munched on the biscuit. "Now, would you like to share your side of the story?"

I shrugged. "Lena insulted my friends, that's why I attacked her and Gwyneth. I started the duel, yes, but they provoked it."

"And you didn't think to just walk away?"

"No," I said truthfully.

She sighed. "I was also told that you tore apart a section of the school floor and set a snake on fire?"

"Yeah, the first spell I cast was Defodio," I said. "And Lena conjured the snake in the first place-the first method that I thought of to get rid of it was to use Incendio."

Headmistress McGonagall gave me a piercing look. "I have to admit, the Gouging spell is a very impressive spell for a third year to learn. So is Incendio, for that matter. But if Professor Jaron's descriptions of your skills are accurate, then you have a vast repertoire of such tricky spells on hand."

The corners of my mouth curled up in a half-smile at the compliment.

"However, Miss Weasley, you have a quick temper, and though it seems to be a common Gryffindor trait, yours seems to be particularly explosive," she said, interrupting my moment of glory. "Both Miss Fisher and Miss Harper seem to find it far too easy to set you off, and that is something you must work on remedying. It may be easy for you to outduel them, but that should not be your response to their taunts, no matter how cruel they may be."

I knew my anger was easy to ignite, but when Headmistress McGonagall said to 'remedy' it, she made it sound so easy, like I could just turn my temper off when I didn't need it. I couldn't. When I got angry, the rational part of my brain shut down and every part of me screamed for revenge, for justice. Was that dangerous? Probably. Did I want to control it? Yes. But I didn't want to get rid of it completely. In the right situation, I believed thirst for vengeance could be a good thing.

"Regardless of the fact that Miss Harper instigated the duel, all three of you shall be punished. Aggressive duelling is not tolerated here at Hogwarts, and this rule must be enforced without exception. I will be taking 60 points from Slytherin and 30 from Gryffindor. However, you will each have separate detentions. I have already discussed this with Professor Patil, and she will inform Miss Harper and Miss Travers. Your detention shall take place tomorrow morning at 9:00, with Professor Hagrid. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," I muttered.

"Then you are dismissed."

I nodded once and descended the small staircase. Pausing by the glass sphere lying with the other Dark detectors, I pointed at it and asked, "Headmistress, what's that?"

She regarded the sphere in contemplation. "It is a Speleiré; if a person with malicious thoughts casts a spell inside or near this office, an alarm loud enough to be heard around the entire castle will go off. They are very rare, crafted by a young Muggle-born witch living in France before she was murdered by a Death Eater during the First Wizarding War."

I looked at the Speleiré with renewed interest. Something like that would be incredibly useful, and I imagined my father would be particularly interested in them since he regularly acquired rare and valuable objects from Egypt.

As I stepped out of the office, I briefly glanced over my shoulder and met Professor Dumbledore's eyes, which were fixed on me. Unable to decipher his pointed gaze, I quickly looked away and left.

* * *

The heavy thud of books landing on the table startled me from my reverie. I tore my gaze away from the early snowfall outside the library window, where a pack of first-years was having a snowball fight, and eyed Connor's excited face.

"Hey jokester," I said. "What are you so happy about?"

"I read the books from the room, and one of them has basically all the information we need!" he exclaimed.

"Shh!" I said quickly with a gesture at Madam Pince, who was glaring in our direction.

Connor lowered his voice, but the delight in his voice remained. "This one book is like an entire compendium of the four elements, and there's a section devoted exclusively to element tattoos and their significance!"

He pushed the largest book of the pile toward me, and I gingerly propped it up against the other books. The title of the book, _Elementum Quadrumvirate_ , was in thick, black calligraphic letters set against the tan background of the cover. I flipped it open, which sent dust particles flying into the air, making me sneeze.

"How the hell did you read this without the book crumbling to pieces?" I asked, fingering its brittle, yellow pages.

"I think it's been enchanted to not fall apart," said Connor. To prove his point, he tugged on one of the pages. Instead of ripping, it simply stretched unnaturally, springing back into place when he let go.

"Weird. It must be pretty valuable, then," I commented, giving the book another look-over. Despite being ancient, the book seemed to radiate an unearthly aura. It was almost as if it were drawn to my fire tattoo.

"Do you feel it too?" I asked. "That pull?"

"Yes." Connor sat down beside me, more subdued now. "I'll tell you the rest when Edward and Maia get here. The findings were interesting, but… also kind of worrying."

The unease in his voice was clear as day. I opened my mouth to ask what he'd learned that was so disturbing, then realized he would just refuse to tell me until the other two students arrived.

Instead, I mentioned casually, "I kept my promise. To hex the first Slytherin I saw."

His eyebrows rose. "Who?"

"Lena Harper. Actually, I hit her with Stupefy, even though you said that's not a hex…but it's close enough."

Connor chuckled. "Stupefy is fine. I assume she's in the hospital wing?"

"She was, but they've probably revived her by now. I reckon Professor Patil only sent her there to make sure she didn't get a concussion from hitting her head on the hard floor. Not that it would've cracked her thick skull anyway."

He shrugged, grinning. "If you say so."

A few minutes later, Edward showed up, running a hand through his disheveled green hair as he hurried across the library. Maia happened to be several metres behind him. The two sat across from us and I couldn't help smiling a little at what an eccentric group we made; all four of us were from different Houses, with very different personalities.

Connor showed them the book cover of _Elementum Quadrumvirate_ and said, "So this was one of the books I took from that room Halloween night before we accidentally destroyed it. It covers everything you could think of about the four elements, including our tattoos."

Maia glanced at the book. "What does that even mean, Elementum Quadrumvirate?"

"Elementum sounds like Latin for elements," noted Edward. "Which makes sense. And quadrumvirate's actually an English word-it means 'a group of four powerful people'."

"Elementum Quadrumvirate is what they chose to call themselves," said Connor.

"Who's 'they'?" I asked.

"The Founders."

Edward, Maia, and I stared at him.

"The Founders of Hogwarts," I said, just to clarify.

"Yes. It was Rowena Ravenclaw who wrote this text, apparently," he replied, opening the cover and pointing to an inscription in the binding. The words 'Recorded and written by Rowena Ravenclaw' were inked onto it.

"Then this book might have been sitting in that room for all those centuries," Edward marveled. "But why were the Founders so interested in the four elements?"

"It's a pretty long story," warned Connor. "During the time the Founders were teaching at Hogwarts, wandless magic was just developing. Though the theory was incredibly popular, few witches or wizards were able to master it. The Founders theorized that everyone is more attuned to one of the four elements, depending on their personality and strengths, and thought that a special magical contraption could enhance a person's aptitude for their inherited element enough that they could do that magic wandlessly. It took them over a decade to build the contraption and cast all the necessary spells and charms on it. Then they experimented it on themselves, and, well, it was successful. It branded each of them with a different tattoo: Rowena's was air, Godric's was fire, Helga's was earth, and Salazar's was water."

"Just like ours," I remarked. "Our elements and the Houses that we're in correspond with the Houses that they founded. And my fire spell was a lot stronger this morning, so ours were also successful."

"Really?" asked Connor.

I told them about the Incendio spell I'd cast this morning, and the unusual strength of the fire. "So at least that part about enhancing the person's magic for their element worked."

"But that doesn't explain how _we_ got _their_ powers," said Maia.

"I'm getting there," said Connor. "The Founders each developed unparalleled wandless magic for their element, and called themselves the Elementum Quadrumvirate, likely as an attempt to combine the words 'element', 'group', and 'strong'. Four powerful elementalists. Each day their abilities grew stronger and stronger, and soon enough their wandless magic became well-known throughout England."

"So we're like the next Elementum Quadrumvirate?" said Edward, making a face.

"I have to admit, that would be pretty awesome," I said with a grin.

"No, it wouldn't," said Connor grimly. "That much power always has a backlash, and it did. A few months later they couldn't control the huge amount of power they possessed. At one point Godric and Salazar lost their tempers and had a fight that _accidentally_ wiped out an entire town. The Founders started to literally burn out, and Helga hypothesized that if they didn't cure themselves, they'd die. After much research, Rowena concocted a potion that stripped them of their inherited elemental power, returning them to normal. But…Salazar refused to drink it."

I looked over at Maia. She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "What?"

"No offense, but Slytherin's founder was an idiot," I said.

"Offense taken anyway," she said blandly. I rolled my eyes.

"Lust for power is a Slytherin trait," Connor noted. "Which is why Salazar wouldn't drink the potion-he'd become too accustomed to his control over water to give it up. He and Godric had another huge fight over his refusal, and Salazar fled Hogwarts and went into hiding. It took the remaining three Founders a year to track him down, and when they did they found his tombstone in Andorra, which mentioned that he'd died about two months after running away."

Edward sucked in a breath. "So his water power did kill him, which makes sense. That much power's got to have a price."

"O-kay," I said. "So you're saying that if we don't drink this potion, we're gonna die in a couple months." Suddenly, the thought of fire powers didn't seem so interesting anymore, not when coupled with a looming death sentence. "Where's the recipe?"

"Er…it's not in the book," said Connor sheepishly.

"What?" screeched Maia. Madam Pince hissed at us, and she lowered her voice. "Then where is it?"

"I don't know!" whispered Connor loudly. "Rowena mentioned the potion several times, but there's no potion recipe in the entire book and she didn't provide a location for one or anything, not even a list of ingredients! She called it the Revermal Potion, which I've never heard of, so she must have never released the recipe to the general public."

"So you're saying we're doomed to die soon?" I asked.

"Not soon," said Connor unreassuringly. "We should live to the end of the school year."

"Oh great, then I can take my OWLs on my deathbed," said Maia sarcastically.

"Let's try not to panic," said Edward, the faint tremor in his voice betraying his true feelings. "Maybe Rowena left hints about the Revermal Potion recipe somewhere in the book."

"I doubt it," said Connor. "I read through the book twice, and I didn't see anything related to how we might brew the potion."

I took the book from him. The ancient pages felt fragile beneath my fingers as I carefully flipped through the book's thin pages. The fragrant smell of old parchment surrounded me. Rowena's handwriting was a graceful, spidery cursive, the kind that was hard to decipher, and I knew it would take me forever to read through it all.

"Okay, I'll trust you on that," I told Connor. "But then we still need to find out how to make this potion."

The obvious, unspoken question was _how_.

"Finish the story," said Edward. "Maybe we'll figure something out afterwards."

"Okay," said Connor. "Where was I? Er, the remaining three Founders returned to Hogwarts after the discovery of Salazar's death. They became really worried about the contraption being abused by future generations because of the power it gives the user, but they couldn't bring themselves to destroy it because they'd spent a huge chunk of their lives building it. So they used complex concealment charms to hide it inside the room until-"

"Hang on," I interjected. "What do you mean, inside the room?"

"The contraption is beneath the floor and extends to the room's walls," he explained. "It's really hard to explain, but they stretched it out so that it fills the space between the exterior bricks and the wall. It's a really complicated bit of magic. Anyway, from what it says in here, the Founders wanted the contraption to give future students powers, but only in an emergency. As an added precaution, they added a charm that would prevent the contraption from activating unless there were only four students in the room, and the four students had to be from different Houses."

"And we just happened to fit those requirements," snorted Maia.

"The Founders probably expected the professors to read this book and safeguard the room for those particular situations," said Edward. "They wouldn't have known the room would be abandoned. I reckon that if they were aware of the books in the room, they figured it wasn't valuable."

"It's not just that," said Connor. "Only we can read the book."

"What?" Edward asked in astonishment.

"My roommate picked up the book last night. He could read the title, but when he opened it all the pages were blank. Even the signature of Rowena Ravenclaw had disappeared."

"I've heard of that enchantment," said Edward. "It only allows certain people to read something. In this case, our element tattoo probably allows us to read this book."

"All of this is really powerful magic," Maia remarked. "The Founders decided to just leave their extremely dangerous contraption in Hogwarts, instead of turning it over to the Ministry?"

"They were probably worried the Ministry would order them to demolish it," I mused. "If I spent over a decade working on something, I'd hide it rather than turn it over and have it confiscated."

"Even if it's a death warrant for the rest of society?" asked Edward.

I bristled under his scrutiny. "Well, I'd be careful not to let anyone touch it or anything, unless it was necessary-" I began hotly.

"That's what the Founders tried," said Connor quietly. "And look at what happened to us."

That made me pause. It was the Founders' contraption that had went off during our refuge in that room, and I supposed it _was_ their fault. Our apparent future powers seemed cool at first, but it was hindered by the fact that they were less of a blessing and more a curse. Maybe it would have been better off in the hands of the Ministry; then the four of us wouldn't have been sitting here plotting to avoid an early death.

"The Founders weren't stupid. If they left the contraption in the room, with the possibility of giving future students powers, they would have left the Revermal Potion recipe somewhere too," said Maia, breaking my train of thought.

"Yes, but they didn't make it easy to find," I pointed out. "We have to find it soon, because for all we know it might take a few months to brew the bloody potion!"

"Well, the contraption's still buried inside the room," Connor offered. "Maybe there's clues somewhere in there about the potion. We could go back and look around."

"We can't," said Edward immediately. "The room's been blocked by Headmistress McGonagall since we destroyed it. Only staff are allowed inside."

"We can search there at night," I said.

Three pairs of eyes turned to me.

"What?" I asked. "It'll be better to poke around at night anyway, so we're not interrupted during our search and nobody will ask us what we're looking for."

"Unless we're caught?" said Edward, emphasizing each word with a forbidding glare. "Do you know how much trouble we'd be in, especially me?"

"I've been out at night plenty of times, and I've never been caught," I scoffed.

"Er, Victoire, you do know there's a prefect sitting with us?" said Connor, gesturing at Edward's reddening face and hair.

"Mister Prefect can sod off," I said. "The room's the only lead we have right now, and going there at night is our only option."

"As much as I hate to admit it, you're right," said Maia grudgingly.

Edward stared at me for a long time, an inscrutable expression on his face. Finally, he looked down and sighed in defeat. "Fine. _Fine_. We'll go there at night and look around for clues, then head _straight_ back to our dormitories and go to sleep."

"Perfect," I said gleefully. Persuading a prefect to break the rules should have been an award. "So when should we go? Tonight?"

"Don't you have a Charms essay to finish?" said Connor pointedly.

I had completely forgotten that I'd told Connor I would give him my rough draft for the essay tomorrow. "Right. Okay, how about tomorrow night?"

Maia shrugged. "That works for me."

Edward looked skywards as he thought about it. "That's Thursday-I have patrol duty that night with the Slytherin prefect, so I'll have to return to my common room and then double back to the room later on, but it's doable."

I glanced at Connor, who nodded an affirmative. "The least amount of teachers around at nighttime is just after one o'clock in the morning, so let's meet at the room around that time," I said.

"I don't even want to know how you know that information," muttered Edward.

I flashed him a sinister smile. "You don't."

Connor looked like he wanted to edge his chair away from mine, which amused me more than it should have. "Er, I reckon we're done here. I'll read through some of these other element books again to compare the information that Rowena recorded."

"Alright," said Edward. "Well, I have Potions in five minutes, so see you all tomorrow night."

He picked up his bag and walked away without a backward glance. Maia glanced at Connor and I and opened her mouth, then apparently changed her mind and simply strode away.

I muttered a quick good-bye to Connor and hurried after Maia. "Hey, Maia! Wait!"

I dashed out of the library, where Maia had slowed to a stop and was now looking at me in irritation. "Not going to Stun me this time?" she asked snidely.

I ignored the jibe. "I'm sorry about that, but you know perfectly well you wouldn't have listened to us if I hadn't done that. Anyway, I wanted to ask what you think of Muggle-borns."

Her eyes narrowed. "And why do you care what my stance is on Muggle-borns?" she said slowly.

"Because…" I faltered, then decided to risk it. "Connor's a Muggle-born, and I know a bunch of Slytherins and your parents-both your real and adopted ones-don't think they're worth learning magic or having the same rights as purebloods and stuff."

Maia studied me, her dark eyes fixed on my light ones. "I couldn't care less what Adler's parentage is," she stated.

I let out a breath of relief that I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Oh. That's good. I don't have to Stun you again."

"I don't remember my parents," said Maia. "They died when I was only a few months old, and whatever their views were have nothing to do with me. And the Malfoys aren't as bad as you think."

"They were Death Eaters during the war!" I exclaimed.

"And they were given a full pardon because Narcissa Malfoy lied to Voldemort, allowing Harry Potter to win the war," she countered. "And just so you know, my adopted mother wasn't a Death Eater. She is a pureblood, yes, but when she attended Hogwarts she was Sorted into Ravenclaw."

My jaw dropped. From everything I'd heard about Draco Malfoy, he'd seemed like the sort who would marry a snobby Slytherin pureblood. What other assumptions had I gotten wrong?

"Believe whatever you want about my family," said Maia dismissively. "I don't care what you think. But do _not_ insult them to my face."

"Yes, okay, I'm sorry about that," I said quickly. "I understand-if you'd said rude things about my family I'd have gotten mad, too. I'm just…I made a temporary truce with Edward since we have to work together, and maybe we can try to get along too?"

Maia seemed to consider it. "We're not going to shake hands or anything," she said finally. "We'll work together, try not to fight, and see where that leads."

"That seems fair," I acknowledged.

She inclined her head and walked away. I figured that was the most normal conversation I'd had with her yet, which was a definite improvement. It was contrary to my nature to make peace with rivals, especially ones from other Houses, but in this case I didn't see any other choice. I consoled myself with the knowledge that I wouldn't have to befriend Judy or Lena anytime soon.

The library doors opened and I swung around in time to see Connor step out. His eyes landed on me, then the rapidly shrinking figure of Maia.

"What did you have to ask her?" he asked.

"Nothing important," I said. "Do you have class now?"

He grimaced. "No, but there's a Slug Club meeting after dinner and those always require a lot of mental preparation."

"You're in the Slug Club?" I asked in surprise.

"Yes, he inducted me after all the potion essays I handed in to him scored an 'Outstanding'," he replied gloomily. "I skipped the last meeting, and Professor Slughorn kept badgering me to come to this one until I gave in and told him I'd attend."

"I'd say I feel sorry for you, but I don't," I said honestly.

"You should. They're horrible. We just eat food and Professor Slughorn asks all the students with famous relatives to regale us with tales of their latest innovative antidote or whatever, and all I can say is that my parents are Muggle physicists. Then all the Slytherins there-which is like fifty percent of the room since Professor Slughorn is Head of Slytherin House-look at me like I'm not worth being in their presence."

"Okay, that's pretty bad," I admitted. "I can now truthfully say I feel very sorry for you."

"Thanks. Of course, that doesn't help me at all, but the sentiment is still appreciated," said Connor with a slight smile.

"Cheer up," I said, patting his shoulder as we headed to the Great Hall. "Compared to the newfound death sentence hanging over our heads, it's not that bad."

* * *

An owl hooted outside my window. I whipped around to peer out the window, but only caught a fleeting glimpse of a misshapen shadow fluttering past, barely visible against the dark night sky. Shaking off my unease, I gripped my wand more tightly and murmured, "Lumos."

A soft glow emanated from the tip of my wand. After glancing at Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor to make sure they weren't waken by the sudden flare of light, I burrowed further under my bedcovers and rolled onto my stomach. I slid a hand under my pillow and withdrew the book I'd checked out from the library three days ago- _Oneiromancy: The Meaning Behind Wizard and Witches' Dreams_.

I flipped to the chapter on Dream Symbolization, skipping past the section I'd already read in the library. After spending the next several minutes reading the chapter, I came to the conclusion that there were a million possible interpretations for my dream. The chapter broke it down into symbols, which sounded useful, but it was actually complicated enough to make my brain hurt. According to the explanation for 'mountain', which was a recurring prop in my dream, it could represent either value or strength. However, in my case it couldn't mean value because 'falling' signified worthlessness, but it didn't mean strength either because 'female' was a symbol for frailty.

After reading that sexist interpretation, a mixture of indignation and frustration took over and I slammed the book shut, momentarily forgetting there were three sleeping girls in the room. Eleanor moaned and turned over in her sleep, causing her sheets to rustle loudly. I froze, my hand stilling over the book cover.

Once I had reassured myself that she hadn't woken up, I stuffed the book back under my pillow and quietly extinguished my wand light. My gaze drifted to my bedside cabinet, where I had stored the Dreamless Sleep potion. However, I wasn't tired, even though I'd finished the rough draft of my Charms essay a mere hour ago.

I pushed the covers back and shivered as the cold air rushed over me. Swinging my legs out of bed, I checked the clock hanging on the wall. It read 1:14 A.M. Still clutching my wand in one hand, I crept out of the dormitory, closing the door behind me as softly as possible.

The common room was empty. From the looks of it, the last few stragglers had left not too long ago, judging by the relatively fresh logs in the fireplace. I plopped down into one of the armchairs close to its fiery warmth and twirled my wand idly in one hand. The gold sparks crackling off the fire snagged my attention, and I mentally focused my magic.

"Vermilious," I whispered.

Red sparks shot out from my wand and joined the ones coming from the fire. Even though the ones I had conjured didn't give off any warmth, I still enjoyed the spectacle. It reminded me of the fireworks display my family had gone to see for my eleventh birthday.

Then I suddenly realized the room was a whole lot warmer than it had been before. I stiffened and leaned closer to the sparks. Reaching out, I caught one of the sparks on my outstretched palm and hissed, instinctively shaking my hand as if to dislodge the pain. Gritting my teeth, I examined my palm. The spark had left an angry red burn in the centre of my hand.

I sat back in the chair, my thoughts now dwelling on what I'd just discovered. Vermilious was a spell that conjured sparks, but they weren't supposed to produce any heat. It was, however, a flame-based spell. Was it possible that my new powers over fire not only amplified Incendio, _the_ fire spell, but also _any_ spell having to do with fire?


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Keeping my back close to the wall, I snuck along the school corridor, freezing every time I heard a sound. The problem with creeping around Hogwarts at night was that every time the portraits made the slightest noise, my heart would stop and I'd hardly dare to breathe. Not to mention the possibility of a portrait being awake and yelling aloud to Filch that there was a student out of bed. With my nerves tight from the anxiety, I was sure I'd jump if a portrait so much as breathed audibly.

I ghosted down the stairs, keeping a wary eye out for either professors on duty or the other three students I was expecting. As I hopped off the last step, a small cough made me flinch violently and duck behind the nearest statue.

I peered around the statue's wide girth cautiously. Professor Vector, the Arithmancy teacher, was standing in front of the room, gazing around the dark halls. Despite the fact that she was holding her wand at arm's length, she looked rather bored.

Cursing under my breath, I moved until my head was out of sight and pondered the situation. Headmistress McGonagall must have suspected that there was something strange about the room if she decided to ask a professor to guard it at night. But what, and who, did she suspect?

Footsteps sounded behind me. I turned around and Edward crouched down beside me, also careful to keep out of Professor Vector's range of vision. His pale face, drawn with nervousness, was illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through the oculus in the ceiling. It was bright enough that I could see the individual black hairs on his head.

"Professor Vector's guarding the room," I said accusingly.

"I didn't know that, Headmistress McGonagall doesn't tell me _everything_ just because I'm a prefect," he hissed in exasperation.

"Fine," I said shortly. "How are we going to get past her, then?"

Edward frowned in contemplation. "Is there another entrance?"

"Not that I know of. Besides, she'd still hear us once we walk into the room." I studied the situation, then withdrew my wand. "I've got an idea, but you're not going to like it."

He eyed my wand suspiciously. "Since I don't have any ideas, go ahead," he sighed.

I angled my wand so that only the tip would be visible to Professor Vector if she had been looking straight at the statue we were hiding behind. Aiming it toward her chest, I whispered, "Stupefy."

The red light crackled as it zoomed towards her. Professor Vector's eyes widened in alarm and she whipped out her wand, but she wasn't fast enough. The spell struck her in the chest and she toppled backwards. Her body collided with the stone wall and slumped to the ground. The resulting crash echoed throughout the corridor, and I winced. I hadn't thought about the noise that would occur once she fell.

"Are you insane?!" seethed Edward. "You just attacked a teacher!"

"How else were we supposed to get in?" I whispered harshly, standing up and hurrying to Professor Vector's side. I bent over her and spotted the rise and fall of her chest. "See, she's fine."

"She's unconscious, that is _not_ fine. When she wakes up she's going to report you and we'll all be expelled!"

"Bloody hell, now you're just overreacting-only I would get expelled! But I know a variation of the Rennervate spell that will only revive her fifteen minutes after we're gone," I informed him. "That way we'll all be long gone by the time she wakes up, and she won't know it was me."

Before he could utter another protest, I hurried into the room and looked around. It had definitely been cleaned since the four of us had left it a week ago. The marble and wood shards had been removed, and the scent of lemon oil-no doubt a teacher's Air-Freshening Charm-lingered in the air. The only sign that it was the same room we'd stumbled into Halloween night was the black rune etched on the floor in the centre of the room.

Edward followed me inside, and Connor materialized beside him.

"I didn't know the plan had been modified to include a comatose teacher," joked Connor, gesturing at Professor Vector's prone form.

"She was guarding the room," I explained. "So I knocked her out."

He shook his head. "Just because Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw in Quidditch yesterday doesn't mean you have all the luck in the world."

"Not luck," I said smugly. "Just skill."

His expression turned serious. "Why would Headmistress McGonagall assign a guard, though? I doubt they're expecting an intruder to break in, and since _she_ hires all the professors, I'm assuming she trusts them. So the only people she would be expecting are…"

"Students," Edward supplied. "And we're the only ones that she knows have a connection to this room."

That was worrying. "Maybe the teachers discovered something important in here," I said, appraising the room more warily than before. "Something that linked back to us."

"Well, if they did, there's only one way to find out," said Connor. "Let's start searching."

Just as I tucked my wand back into my sleeve, I heard running footsteps into the hall. All three of us glanced at the doorway.

"Maybe it's Maia?" I said uncertainly.

"I don't think she's idiotic enough to be running around at 1:00 in the morning," Edward pointed out.

I tensed as the footsteps grew closer and closer. Then Professor Hill, my Muggle Studies professor, entered the scene and came to a halt beside Professor Vector, gazing at her in shock. "Septima! What-"

His horrified look swung from her to us, and his jaw dropped. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"We, er, needed to come into this room," I said.

"In the middle of the night?" said Professor Hill. "What could be worth attacking a teacher? You could be expelled!"

"We-"

"Is Headmistress McGonagall right about you four, then?"

I froze, aware of Connor and Edward stiffening beside me. "What did she say about us?" I asked carefully.

Professor Hill opened his mouth to answer, but a voice cried, "Petrificus Totalus!"

Professor Hill's limbs snapped to his side and he face-planted onto the floor, revealing Maia standing behind him with her wand outstretched.

"Glad I got to join in on the fun," she said dryly upon spotting Professor Vector's motionless body.

I rushed to Professor Hill's side and turned him over. His shocked eyes met mine, and I felt a twinge of guilt. I was tempted to revive him just so he could answer my question, but I was pretty sure that was a stupid idea.

Glancing back to where Connor and Edward were standing, I said, "Bloody hell. He's seen us. What now?"

"I really, _really_ don't want to do this, but…" Edward sighed and approached us, staring at Professor Hill with a look of regret. I had never seen Edward make that face before; whatever he was about to do must be really unprincipled.

"Professor Hill, I'm really, really sorry for what I'm about to do," said Edward.

In one fluid motion, he drew his wand and aimed at Professor Hill's forehead. "Obliviate!"

I gaped first at him, then Edward, as Professor Hill's eyes grew glassy and unfocused. Edward nudged me with his foot and said urgently, "You still need to Stun him."

I blinked. "Right," I said, pulling out my wand again. "Stupefy."

Professor Hill's eyes closed, and his head lolled to one side. I slowly straightened, all my senses numbed after what had just transpired.

"Since when can you perform a Memory Charm?" I demanded.

"About ten seconds ago," he said shakily. "I know the incantation and the theory on how to cast it, but I've never actually done it before."

"Based on the vacant stare Professor Hill developed, I'm pretty sure it worked," said Connor. He and Edward had the same look of immense shame on their faces, while Maia was expressionless as always. I briefly wondered what I looked like. "We'd better look around quickly, before any other teachers arrive."

"Right," I said, giving myself a shake. I strode over to the rune in the centre of the room and crouched down beside it. It looked exactly as I remembered it, though knowing now that it meant 'element', the fact that it gave us our tattoos, and that it had basically sentenced us to death ruined the nostalgic moment.

I poked it with my wand, expecting the rune to start wriggling like before. But nothing happened.

"It's not working," I announced.

"Maybe it senses that we've already been branded, thus it won't activate," Connor suggested.

"Or it only works once," said Maia.

"Wait," I said suddenly, moving closer to the rune. "It's changing."

The rune, rather than writhing like last time, was fading. As soon as it faded completely, it began rematerializing into the Hogwarts crest, but instead of the normal animal symbols gracing the insignia, there were handprints.

I immediately place my hand over the Gryffindor one, and after a moment of hesitation, the other three placed their hands over their respective Houses. The crest glowed bright white, rivalling the moonlight shining through the window, and it expanded until it grew into the familiar white circle traced onto the floor around our feet.

As the four different sections of the circle flashed the element colours-red, white, brown, blue-a loud crack in the wall behind us drew our attention. The brick wall was splitting apart, stones falling onto the ground, and I realized it was exposing a hidden compartment concealed inside. After one final rumble, the wall stopped shifting and became silent. I glanced back at the professors' prone bodies, then stepped out of the circle. Last time, I hadn't been able to because of some invisible barrier, but this time there was no such obstruction.

I walked over to the newfound hole inside the wall and looked inside. It was bigger than I expected, about two feet wide and one foot deep. At the bottom of the compartment there was an ancient roll of parchment that must have been enchanted; it should have crumbled to dust ages ago. I carefully withdrew the roll and squinted at it.

The other three crowded around me as I muttered "Lumos", unrolled the parchment, and promptly groaned. "You've got to be joking!" I fumed. "It's written in bloody runes. Rowena Ravenclaw had to make it as hard as possible?!"

Connor grinned happily at the challenge. "That's fine. I'm taking Ancient Runes, remember? I should be able to decode it."

"I can help," Edward offered. "I'm taking Ancient Runes too, though I'll probably drop it next year."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because it's boring and I don't need it for my future career," replied Edward.

Connor looked scandalized that any class could be considered boring, but Edward ignored it and the two bent their heads over the parchment, murmuring softly under their breath.

I looked over at Maia, who was standing a few feet away with her arms crossed. She noticed my raised eyebrows and said, "What?"

I gestured at Professor Hill. "Nice Full Body-Bind curse."

Her lips curved into a smirk. "Thanks. Your Stupefy isn't half bad either, Weasley."

I supposed coming from her, that was a compliment.

"It's not the potion recipe," said Edward, disappointment evident in his voice.

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Rowena started off with a greeting to, in her words, 'the new Elementum Quadrumvirate', and immediately said that this is not the potion recipe," stated Connor.

I found that very, very, creepy. "Damn, it's like she reading our minds," I said.

"More like anticipating exactly what would happen," said Connor, rolling up the parchment and tucking it into his robes. "I'll finish deciphering this in the morning-"

"It is the morning," I pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. "Later on today, then. If I'm tired when decoding this, I might make mistakes, and I don't fancy staying out here any longer than we have to."

"Good point," said Edward, eyeing the unconscious professors in the doorway.

Connor reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out another sheaf of parchment, this one significantly shorter. "I revised your essay after you gave it to me yesterday morning. It wasn't…terrible."

I regarded the many mistakes he'd corrected, as well as the notes he'd added on the side. "Somehow, I doubt that. But thanks anyway."

The four of us dragged the professors' bodies farther into the room, so that any random passerby hopefully wouldn't see them before they woke up. I lightly touched my wand to both of their temples and said, "Rennervate Tempore."

Their bodies jerked, but other than that they didn't stir. Connor glanced at me worriedly. "You're sure they'll wake up?"

"Yes, I've used the spell before," I said.

"When did you use-"

"Never mind that," I said hurriedly. "Edward, maybe you'd better modify Professor Vector's memory too, or she'll remember being attacked."

"Right," he said, aiming his wand at her forehead and hesitating for only a split second before murmuring the incantation.

Since Professor Vector's eyes remained closed, we couldn't be sure that the Memory Charm worked. However, we agreed that if Edward managed it the first time, he'd probably succeeded the second time. So we darted out of the room and quietly rushed back to our dormitories under the cover of night.

Just before crawling into bed, I reached into my nightstand and took a long sip from the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. I fell back onto my pillow, closed my eyes, and let sleep wash over me.

* * *

As I chewed my breakfast, I snuck peeks at Professor Vector and Professor Hill sitting at the staff table. Both appeared normal, and Professor Vector even laughed at something Professor Jaron said. I didn't know how people usually reacted after having their memories modified, but the other professors didn't seem to notice anything wrong.

I glanced over at the Ravenclaw table, where Connor was doing the same thing as me out of the corner of his eye. He caught my look and nodded, which I took to mean, _Edward's Memory Charm must have worked._

I nodded back in agreement and returned to my crumpet. I was reluctantly impressed by Edward's ability to cast the charm, especially since I wasn't sure what we would have done otherwise. Likely Headmistress McGonagall would have announced a possible attacker roaming the halls of Hogwarts.

The thought of Headmistress McGonagall reminded me of the fact that she had suspected we'd return to the room. Whatever she had deduced, Professor Hill had known too, which meant the whole staff knew. I was burning with curiosity over what she thought we were up to, but I wasn't on great terms with any of the staff, except for maybe Professor Jaron.

After I finished eating, I headed to Potions class along with the other third-year Gryffindors. As I walked behind them, staring at the backs of their heads, it struck me that I barely knew any of them. I could place names with their faces, but if anyone asked me what they were _like_ , I wouldn't have been able to answer-except for Judy, Fatima, and Eleanor. Then I'd be able to unleash a string of negative characteristics.

The first time I'd embarked on the Hogwarts Express, I had been more nervous than I had let on. I was the first Weasley in my generation to attend Hogwarts, and I had felt certain expectations keenly. I didn't think my relatives _meant_ it, but when their jokes were along the lines of "Weasleys are always Gryffindors!", it was hard not to feel any pressure.

But when I'd boarded the train, I'd chosen a compartment with two other first-year girls, and we'd become friends even before all three of us were Sorted into Gryffindor. I'd spent all my free time with them, not bothering to become acquainted with any of the other students because I'd never dreamed my friends would ever be gone from my side.

I was so lost in thoughts of the past that I nearly walked into the door of the Potions dungeon. After glancing around quickly to make sure no one had witnessed my near-mishap, I strode to the back of the classroom and dumped my bag on the desk, almost causing my inkwell to spill over the top.

Professor Slughorn walked in shortly afterwards, a jovial smile on his face. "Hello, third-year Gryffindors and Slytherins! Today you're going to be making the Girding Potion!"

The majority of the class groaned. The Girding Potion was notoriously difficult, and even the fourth-year students frequently complained when asked to brew it.

"Yes, yes, I know it's hard, especially for third-year students," said Professor Slughorn cheerfully, not sounding bothered in the slightest. "That's why you will be working in partners today. To encourage everyone to do their best, whichever team brews the best potion will win a prize. After you find a partner, one of you should collect the necessary ingredients from the cupboard while the other prepares the cauldron. You have-" he consulted his gold watch- "one hour!"

The class erupted into a frenzy as everyone scrambled to grab a partner and rush to the student cupboard to get the best ingredients. My gaze swivelled around the room, an uneasy feeling settling in my stomach as more and more people were partnered.

As I scanned the room desperately, trying to find someone not partnered, my eyes landed on Fatima, who was sitting at her desk by herself and doing the same as me. I noticed Judy and Eleanor a few feet away, chattering happily and pretty much ignoring their other friend.

I checked the rest of the class, but everyone else seemed to have a partner. Suppressing a groan, I looked back at Fatima and my eyes locked onto her brown ones. She tilted her head questioningly, and with no other option, I shrugged.

Without a backward glance, she headed to the front to collect whatever ingredients were still left. I pointed my wand at the element underneath my cauldron and muttered, "Incendio."

A large burst of flame shot out from my wand, nearly setting the entire cauldron alight. I swore and quickly decreased the amount of energy I was channeling into the spell until the fire resembled mere embers.

Fatima walked over to me with a hesitant expression on her face. Her arms were laden with the necessary ingredients which, judging by the smell, were several months old. "Is this okay? You and I working together?" she asked hesitantly, tugging absentmindedly on her bright red headscarf.

"It's not like we have a choice," I said with forced indifference. No, I wasn't overly fond of working with Fatima, but I'd rather work with her than Judy or Eleanor. At least Fatima had brains.

After she dropped the ingredients on my desk, I took out my textbook from my bag and flipped to the correct page. The Girding Potion was supposed to give the drinker extra endurance for several weeks, but according to my father, when he brewed it at Hogwarts he drank it before a Quidditch match and ended up in the hospital wing with painful sores along his legs. Considering he passed N.E.W.T.-level Potions with an E, I didn't have much hope with my mediocre potion-making skills.

Fatima dropped the fairy wings into the cauldron, which sizzled and instantly turned bright turquoise. She peered at it, looking startled. "Isn't it supposed to boil for a few minutes before turning changing colour?"

I checked the recipe. "Yes, it says the time changes depending on the fire's temperature…" I trailed off as I remembered that I had cast the spell. I had nearly forgotten my Incendio spell was hotter than most other fires.

"That's really cool," said Fatima. "Well, not cool. Hot, I guess?"

I gave her a strange look. Her cheeks turned pink, and she busied herself with measuring the correct weight of the doxy eggs. She was acting weird, but I supposed anyone who was friends with Judy must be odd and possibly vicious. I'd never interacted with Fatima much when she wasn't accompanying her friends, but I hadn't forgotten that it was she who had levitated me into a broom closet and allowed Judy to shut me inside. After one last squint in her direction, I reached for the knife she'd brought from the cupboard and started chopping the dragonfly thoraxes.

We spent the next fifty minutes brewing the potion in silence, alternating lines in the recipe. Finally, I dropped three flying seahorses in the cauldron, and Fatima began stirring the potion. The concoction gradually changed from navy blue to lime green, just like the book described. I had to admit that Fatima was very good at Potions, but that didn't mean I wanted to partner with her again.

"And time's up!" said Professor Slughorn as an alarm on his watch started beeping frantically. He tapped the device with his wand, and it quickly fell silent. "Let's see how you all did."

He walked around the classroom, muttering audible comments about everyone's potions. A few received a hearty smile, including ours. In the end, he pointed at Jonathan Yaxley and Victor Nott and declared them the winners. As the two Slytherins snickered gleefully, I glanced at their cauldron and grudgingly conceded that their potion did look better than ours.

Professor Slughorn reached into his coat pocket and withdrew two large slabs of Honeydukes Finest Chocolate, handing them to Jonathan and Victor. The two greedy Slytherins exchanged huge grins.

"Since I distinctly recall not giving any homework last week, I want all of you to hand in a three-foot-long essay on the Girding Potion's advantages and disadvantages for next week. Class dismissed!"

I groaned aloud. It seemed like every time I finished writing an essay, one of my professors would assign a new one. It was a good thing Connor already finished editing my Charms essay for me-it was going to save a lot of time. As the rest of the class filed out of the room, I went to the front of the class and approached Professor Slughorn.

"Professor," I called.

He glanced at me. "Miss-er-Weaver, is it?"

I shook my head. "Weasley, actually. Have you ever heard of the Revermal Potion?"

Professor Slughorn frowned. "No, can't say I have. Why?"

I inwardly cursed. Since Professor Slughorn was an older man with a vast knowledge of different potions, I had hoped he might have at least an inkling of the Revermal Potion. But if even he had never heard of it, then chances were the Founders never shared the potion recipe with anyone.

"No reason, just curious," I said quickly, hoping that was reasonable enough to deter suspicion.

He nodded and waved his wand, sending his unpacked belongings zooming back into his trunk. "Curiosity can be a powerful ally, Miss Weasley, but it can also lead to one's downfall," he remarked. At my puzzled look he clarified, "An old colleague of mine once told me that. It was a lesson I…hadn't fully comprehended at the time."

As I thought about the statement, he closed his trunk and locked the clasp. He hoisted it onto his shoulder and I noted, "That reminds me of a similar quote, something like 'curiosity killed the cat.'"

Professor Slughorn chuckled. "Yes, I do believe that's a Muggle saying. Interesting how despite hundreds of years of separation between us and them, we still learn the same morals from life. It's a pity we can't learn more from each other."

I gaped at him, but fortunately he didn't notice. Professor Slughorn glanced at his watch and jumped. "Goodness, it's already lunchtime! Good day, Miss Weasley," he said.

"Good day, Professor," I automatically replied. I walked out of the dungeon feeling surprised, and not because Professor Slughorn had gotten my name right for the first time. I had assumed all Slytherins was prejudiced against Muggles, yet the Head of Slytherin House himself wished to become more knowledgeable about them.

Not feeling hungry, I strode up the stairs, thinking I could finish the Charms essay Connor revised for me, for once on time for class tomorrow. After walking up all seven stories, I headed in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. I turned the corner and was almost there when I glimpsed a familiar figure standing in front of a window further down the hall.

I considered pretending I hadn't seen him and just walking into my dormitory, but then the figure turned and spotted me standing in the middle of the hallway. Letting out a sigh, I approached him and said diplomatically, "Edward."

"Victoire," he answered.

"Why are you here? Isn't it lunch time?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same thing."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't hungry and came up to do homework."

"You actually do your homework?"

"Yes I do, believe it or not," I said, scowling. "I haven't been expelled yet. So…what are you doing here?"

He glanced out the window beside him, a large stained glass artpiece depicting a blonde woman picking flowers beside a riverbank. Every so often, the woman would look up and wink at Edward.

"I was thinking about last night," he said finally. "Yes, we snuck out after curfew and you Stunned two teachers, which is already against the rules, but I _modified their_ _memories_. That's like ten times worse; usage of the Memory Charm is regulated by the Ministry of Magic, and I used it carelessly."

"It wasn't careless," I shot back. "You had a perfectly good reason to use it."

"But-"

"No buts! You didn't have any other choice, and if you hadn't used the Memory Charm all four of us would have been given detention for the rest of our lives, not to mention I would have been skinned alive by Headmistress McGonagall for getting into trouble for the third time this week. You saved our hides with that charm and it's already happened, so there's no use beating yourself up about it!"

"She wouldn't have skinned you alive," he said bluntly.

I exhaled. "I was exaggerating! Is that all you took from that?"

Edward regarded me quizzically, and I realized I had just defended him from himself, even though I hated him. But if I was being completely honest, I didn't really hate him anymore. I still didn't _like_ him, but the former loathing I had felt for him was mostly gone.

"Did you know that you think in black and white?" he said.

"What?"

"When your mind is presented with a situation, you see it as one way or the other. There's no grey area for you." He looked at me in contemplation. "Like when you're provoked. For you, it's either fight or flight-you don't even think of any other options."

I opened my mouth to deny it, but even I recognized a grain of truth in his words. He'd basically just repeated what Headmistress McGonagall had told me two days ago. Plus, Maia had told me her adopted mother had married a former Death Eater without being a Slytherin herself, which did seem incomprehensible to me.

So instead I simply stated, "Shut up."

He grew sober and crossed his arms, returning his gaze to the world outside the window.

"If my problem is black-and-white thinking, then your problem is that you take everything too seriously," I said. As he tilted his head to look at me, I added, "Like when I jokingly tell you to shut up. You _actually_ shut up instead of telling me to sod off."

A small smile graced Edward's features, and his previously auburn hair gradually turned yellow. "I'll keep that in mind next time you tell me shut up. But yes, I know I'm too serious. In almost everything I do, I set personal goals and nearly always achieve them, but in my determination I tend to forget to do anything else. My friends would testify for that."

"Can you make 'not dying from a bloody curse' one of those goals?"

He snorted. "I could, but I doubt it would help much. Right now I'm just hoping the document Connor deciphered says something about the Revermal potion, even just a hint. Otherwise we're at a dead end."

"A literally dead end," I said.

"That was a terrible pun," said Edward, shaking his head. I couldn't help grinning.

"Hey! Teddy!"

I turned around and saw Aedan Vance, another Hufflepuff fifth-year and a friend of Edward's, rush up to him. I had nearly forgotten most other people referred to him as Teddy. I called him that, and ever since Connor started hanging out with me, he referred to him as Edward too, but as far as I knew we were the only ones.

"Where were you?" said Aedan.

"I wasn't hungry, so I skipped lunch," said Edward. "Why?"

"We were supposed to go to the library together after lunch to work on our Arithmancy project?" said Aedan with a raised eyebrow.

"Damn, I forgot about that," said Edward, wincing. "I'll go with you now. See you later, Victoire."

"I hope not," I countered. "But I reckon I haven't got much choice."

"Victoire? Victoire Weasley?" said Aedan, his sharp green eyes locking onto me. His face crinkled into a devious grin. "The so-called bane of Teddy's existence?"

"Aedan!" snapped Edward, his cheeks and hair turning an interesting shade of red.

"Is that what he calls me?" I said curiously.

"Amongst other things, but I don't want to say those in front of a third-year student-"

"Aedan, we're going to the library," said Edward firmly, grabbing Aedan's arm and trying to drag him away.

"Fine, fine," said Aedan with a chuckle as the two walked away.

I wasn't sure what to think of this revelation that I was the 'bane of Edward's existence', but I decided to wear it like a badge of honour. Sometimes Edward was so inscrutable that it was hard to tell how annoyed he was, but if my abrasive personality got under his skin, I considered that an impressive achievement.

* * *

"Victoire, can I ask you something?"

I lowered my wand and frowned at Connor from across the duelling area. "I'm in the middle of teaching you a spell, for a duelling lesson _you_ asked for. This question can't wait for later?"

"I suppose it can, but I'm worried I might forget to ask you later," he explained.

I heaved a sigh. "Fine. We've been practicing for half an hour, anyway. Let's take a break."

Connor smiled in relief and stowed his wand in his pocket. I made my way to the plush sofa the Room of Requirement had provided and sat down. The soft cushions easily gave way, allowing me to sink into them. "What's the question?"

"I remember reading somewhere that Veela have natural fire powers that manifest when they're angry," he said, sitting on the armchair across from me. "Since you're one-eight Veela, did you have any control over fire before?"

"No. Only full-blooded Veela can shoot fire and turn into demons," I replied. "Part-Veela only inherit the ability to attract the opposite gender, but the potency decreases with each generation as the Veela blood becomes diluted. My mother could use the ability sometimes, but I've never been able to. My siblings don't show any signs, either."

"You have siblings?" he asked.

"Younger sister and brother," I said, smiling fondly as memories of them popped into my mind. "Dominique's in her first year, but she's attending Beauxbatons. She prefers speaking French and she hates the cold, and my parents realized she'd be happier there. Louis is eight. He's funny and adorable, and he's wanted to come to Hogwarts ever since I came back after my first year." I glanced at Connor. "Do you have any siblings?"

"Nope, I'm an only child," he replied. "My parents were really busy and they still found time to raise me, but I don't think they could have handled another child."

I stared at him. "You're talking in past tense," I said slowly. "Are your parents-"

"No! No, they're not dead," said Connor quickly. "They're in perfect health. I-er-meant that I haven't seen them for a while, you know, since-er-this past summer."

I was certain Connor was hiding something about his parents, but we'd only been friends for just over a week. Pressing him for more information didn't seem right, at least not yet.

"All your relatives are really close, right?" asked Connor.

I nodded. "The Weasley family is huge-I've got more cousins than clothes-but we all see each other at Easter, Christmas, and several times over the summer." I decided not to mention that lately I'd been growing distant from all my relatives. If Connor noticed I didn't actually answer his question, he didn't mention it.

"And Edward is present as these gatherings?"

"Yes," I answered, glancing at him in understanding. "I know where you're going with this…now you're going to ask me how I ended up hating Edward since we saw each other so often."

Connor grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."

I sighed, reclining back against the sofa. The Room of Requirement must have sensed our House allegiances, because the sofa was patterned scarlet and gold, while the armchair Connor was perched on was navy blue embroidered with bronze trimmings. Two banners bearing the Gryffindor lion and Ravenclaw eagle hung on opposite sides of the vaulted ceiling.

"Honestly, I don't really know myself," I said. "Since I was the oldest Weasley child, we sometimes played together, but our personalities clashed so much that it always ended in a fight. The first time I used magic was when I was seven; Teddy had caught me sneaking outside to fly after dark and he'd pissed me off by lecturing me in that snooty voice of his. I…" I paused and frowned. "I set the hem of his pants on fire."

Connor snorted. "You really have an affinity for fire," he mused.

Now that I thought about it, it was true. Much of the magic I performed, intentional or not, was flame-based. "Have you ever done any unusual air-based magic?" I asked.

"Not before Halloween, but yesterday I thought I'd try this spell and, well, see for yourself." He grasped his wand and aimed it at the Ravenclaw banner. "Ventus!"

A powerful gust of wind rocketed from his wand with the force of a hurricane. The banner fluttered violently for a few seconds before being ripped away and collapsing onto the ground in a heap of blue and bronze. Even though the spell wasn't aimed at me, I felt a strong breeze brush past my face.

I stared at the ruined Ravenclaw banner. "That's like what happened with my Incendio spell," I said. "It was a lot stronger than usual."

"Well, according to Rowena, they're only going to get stronger from now on," said Connor.

"Until we die," I added ominously.

After the gravity of that fact sunk in, I got up and prodded him with my wand. "Break's over, jokester."

He stood without complaint, following me to the centre of the room and standing ten feet away from me. We both moved into the proper duelling positions on circles the Room had helpfully embedded onto the floor, and he instantly raised his wand. His forehead creased as he focused on me.

"Impedimenta!" he cried.

The turquoise light of the jinx flew towards me before dissipating in mid-air, strongly reminding me of our first duel together in Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

"Concentrate," I said. "It's not enough to just speak the words. You have to feel them."

Connor looked at me like I was insane. "I'm a Ravenclaw. We think rationally, and _feeling_ spells doesn't make any sense."

"I'm a Gryffindor, but I'm the practically opposite of chivalrous," I pointed out. "Our Houses don't define us. Just because something doesn't make sense doesn't mean it's not possible."

He bit his lip nervously, but narrowed his eyes. "Impedimenta!" he said confidently.

This time, the crackling shaft of blue energy hurtled towards me without stopping. I let it strike me in the chest, and immediately felt the effects of the spell as time seemed to slow down around me.

A few seconds later, I recovered. Connor and I exchanged delighted smiles. "That was great!" I praised.

"Thanks," he replied, obviously thrilled.

"Really, it was," I said as I tucked my wand away. "They only teach Impedimenta in fifth year Defense Against the Dark Arts and-"

"What's wrong with your hand?"

I realized that with the lack of occupied hands, I was absentmindedly nursing my left. "Oh, it's nothing. I accidentally burned myself yesterday."

He crossed the room and grabbed my wrist, turning my hand over to peer at the round burn mark. "With what? A flaming pestle?"

"No, a spark," I said. "From the Vermilious spell."

Connor looked puzzled. "But Vermilious isn't supposed to-"

"Produce heat, I know." I told him about my theory concerning element-based spells in relation to our powers.

He rocked back on his heels. "Possible. It makes a lot of sense, actually…that anything related to our sphere of elemental control is augmented in power. Interesting." Connor pondered this information for a few moments, then focused on me. "You should really get that burn looked at."

"It's not that bad," I protested. "It was a lot worse two days ago. See, I got burned here, too." I lifted the hem of my robes, exposing a ring of burns circling my right ankle. "I had detention with Hagrid yesterday morning and I had to feed his bloody Blast-Ended Skrewts. For some reason, they liked to shoot fire at my ankle. But these burns actually looked worse yesterday. I think my 'affinity for fire', as you phrased it, sped up the healing process."

"Really?" he said in surprise. "I'll have to check whether Rowena mentioned that in the 'Elememtum Quadrumvirate' book. I think I remember something about restorative properties. Still, Madam Pomfrey has burn-healing paste stored in the hospital wing and it'll at least soothe the pain, even if you're healing more quickly than normal."

"Fine," I relented. "I have some time before Quidditch practice-I'll stop by the hospital wing."

We packed our belongings and I slung my bag over my shoulder. "Hey, are you almost done decoding the parchment we found this morning?" I asked.

Connor grimaced. "Almost. Half the ink has faded over the centuries so I'm copying those runes onto a separate parchment to better decipher them, but it's taking longer than I thought. I should be able to finish tonight, though. Then the four of us can meet up tomorrow and I'll bring the translation."

"Sounds good," I said as we left the Room of Requirement. The large oak door rippled like water and vanished before our eyes. "Of what you've translated so far…is it hopeful?"

He thought about it. "Yes and no."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting until tomorrow," he said cheekily. "I have Ancient Runes now, bye!"

"You come back here, you git-"

Connor dodged my fingers and darted away before I could pull him back.

"That was a pathetic escape," I muttered under my breath. But I was worried by the possible reasons of why he would refuse to divulge what he'd translated so far. If it was optimistic, wouldn't he have said so?

Shrugging it off, I started to make my way to the Gryffindor common room to fetch my broomstick when I heard loud voices coming from the corner Connor had just turned. I listened carefully, and was able to pick out Connor's agitated voice from the babble.

I crept back and peered around the corner. Connor was facing two older Slytherins whom I vaguely recognized from around Hogwarts, but not by name. One was tall with messy blond hair, and the other was shorter with close-cut brown hair. Both had identical sneers on their faces.

"You're the second Mudblood we've come across since leaving our dormitory, you know?" said the taller one in disgust. "The school's being overrun."

"It's an outrage," declared the short one. "Do you think there's a conspiracy?"

"If you honestly believe Muggle-borns are conspiring to take over Hogwarts, then you're even stupider than I thought," said Connor. "I didn't think that was possible."

I broke into a wide grin as the two Slytherins bristled. "Watch your tongue, Mudblood, or we just might curse it off," the tall one warned, removing his wand from his pocket. Connor eyed it, but didn't reach for his own.

Rosier laughed disparagingly. "Are you scared of a duel, little Mudblood?"

"I'm not afraid," said Connor. "I'm simply aware that if I draw my wand, you're going to disarm me before I manage to utter a single spell. I never fall for the same trap twice, Rosier."

"The little Mudblood's smart!" Rosier exclaimed sarcastically. "Fine, don't fight back. Makes our life easer. Flipendo!"

Connor dodged the spell and he pulled out his wand. He quickly aimed it at Rosier and shouted, "Impedimenta!"

Rosier froze in his tracks. The shorter Slytherin gaped and drew his own wand, but Connor yelled, "Expelliarmus!", and his wand flew out of his hand. He stared at Connor for a few seconds before turning and bolting in the opposite direction.

"Cowards, the lot of them," I said, finally deciding to show myself. Connor glanced back in surprise.

"Did you see that?" he said excitedly.

"I did," I said. For some reason, I was immensely proud to see Connor use the skills I had taught him, especially against those Slytherin bullies, and I wondered if that was how the professor of Hogwarts felt when they saw their students excel.

Rosier began to regain movement in his body, groaning aloud. I casually took out my wand and said, "Petrificus Totalus."

His limbs locked together and he fell forwards, striking his forehead on the marble floor. The impact made a dull thud that reverberated throughout the otherwise empty corridor.

Connor examined Rosier's prone form in trepidation, looking around nervously. "When a teacher comes and revives him-"

"If he breathes a word about what happened, you can say it was in self-defence," I interrupted. "Not to mention that he was the one bullying you."

"True." He stuck his wand in his pocket. "Thanks, Vic."

I paused. "What did you call me?"

"Er…Vic," he said, catching the strange expression on my face. "Sorry. If you don't like it-I just thought since you call me jokester all the time-"

"No, Vic is fine," I said, a smile beginning to bloom on my face. "It's just that no one's called me that for a long time."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Professor Flitwick blinked. "What's this?"

I cocked my head to one side and gestured at the essay I'd just thrust into his hands. "It's the Cheering Charms essay I owe you, Professor."

His gaze landed on the parchment, then slowly travelled back to me. "I see," he said uncertainly.

"You sound like you didn't expect me to hand it in," I said in amusement.

"I had no doubt you would hand in your essay," he told me. "I simply didn't expect to see it for another month at least."

I smirked. Professor Flitwick added my essay to the stack on his desk and dipped his head. "Thank you, Miss Weasley. It's always nice to see improvements in my students."

"No problem, sir," I said with a grin. As the Ravenclaw student behind me approached Professor Flitwick with a question about the day's lesson, I turned around and stepped off the dais. When I left the classroom, I found Connor standing outside with a curious look on his face.

"What did he say?" he asked.

"Not much," I replied. "He just seemed really shocked that I handed in my essay so early."

"Early?" he asked in a perplexed tone. "It's three weeks late!"

"I think you're forgetting who you're talking to," I chuckled.

He sighed as we started walking in the direction of the Great Hall. It was almost dinnertime, and the dark sky outside the windows were casting elongated silhouettes on the hall floors. The sconces lining the castle walls were brightly lit, adding to the eerie play of light and shadow on the floor.

My stomach rumbled and Connor gave me a knowing look. "Hungry?"

"Starving," I corrected. "I skipped lunch to finish that essay." Looking up ahead, I spotted the doors to the Great Hall and quickened my pace.

"Victoire Weasley?"

Both Connor and I halted and glanced backwards. A panting Hufflepuff fourth-year rushed up to us and doubled over, breathing hard.

"Yes?" I said impatiently.

He emitted one last heaving breath and straightened. "Headmistress McGonagall wants you to go to her office," he said.

"Okay," I acknowledged, and continued walking.

"Er, she wants you right now," he corrected. "She asked me to escort you immediately."

I stopped and glared at him until he squirmed under the force of my glower. "Fine," I huffed. "I'll see you later, Connor."

"Yep," said Connor. "Er, Vic? It's not his fault your dinner is being delayed, so don't murder him on the way, okay?"

"I'm not promising anything," I said darkly, but when the Hufflepuff gaped at me in alarm I tossed him a reassuring smile to show I was joking. However, he just stared back with wide eyes, and I wondered whether the grin came out too feral. Louis had once told me my grin could unintentionally be 'very scary'.

The Hufflepuff student led me down the hallway, following the same path Professor Patil had taken me only three days ago. Soon enough, we were standing in front of the gargoyle protecting the Headmistress' office, and the Hufflepuff spoke the same password Professor Patil had that time, 'Felidae'.

Once the gargoyle leaped aside, we ascended the rotating staircase, and he knocked on the wooden door. A voice told us to enter, and the Hufflepuff pushed the door open.

Headmistress McGonagall was sitting at her desk, seemingly signing her name at the bottom of a long roll of parchment. Upon seeing us she said, "Thank you, Mister Glenn. You may go to dinner now."

Glenn nodded energetically and left. I watched him go, then rounded on Headmistress McGonagall. "Why did you have to send that kid to fetch me?"

She raised an eyebrow. "That _kid_ is older than you." After she finished rolling up the parchment and setting down her quill, she said, "Mister Glenn was given detention for setting off Dungbombs in Greenhouse Three, and I requested he run errands for me."

"Dungbombs in Greenhouse Three…I don't think Fred and Kyle have done that yet," I mused.

Headmistress McGonagall looked up to face me. "Miss Weasley, don't you dare give your cousin any ideas!"

I grinned. "That's okay. Fred doesn't like doing pranks that have already been done. He's an innovator."

Despite the serious look on her face, Headmistress McGonagall didn't seem angry. "As amusing as they are, I did not call you here to discuss Mister Weasley's practical jokes," she said. "I thought you would like to know that Mister Lupin is not quite as good at casting Memory Charms as he believes."

My breath hitched. A million frantic thoughts jumbled together in my mind, but I was speechless.

"Professor Hill remembers nothing from two nights ago, but Professor Vector remembers being Stunned while guarding the room." She folded her fingers together and fixed me with her steely gaze. "As you may have guessed from the guard I posted, I predicted that the four of you-Mister Adler, Mister Lupin, Miss Milden, and yourself-would attempt to return to the room, which turned out to be correct. However, I apparently underestimated the lengths to which you four would go to re-enter."

"Professor Hill mentioned your name right before, er, we disabled him," I stuttered. I was pretty sure Maia wouldn't appreciate me blurting out that she had cast a Full Body-Bind curse on him. "What made you think we would come back?"

"All four of you _did_ come back, so I clearly predicted correctly."

"But you couldn't have known that!" I protested. "Only we know about the Elementum Quadrumvirate and the Founders' secret powers-"

"What's this about the Founders?" she cut in, wearing a very confused expression.

We stared blankly at one another. Then Headmistress McGonagall said slowly, "I believe we are on different pages…I was under the impression that the four of you desired to return to that room because of a strange enchantment I found woven into the walls whilst Argus Filch was cleaning the room."

"What kind of enchantment?"

"An ancient spell was wound around the room, one I have never sensed before," she said. "I was unsure of its exact effects, but the essence of the enchantment was similar to that of the Luring charm."

I understood what she was trying to say. "So you thought we would be lured back to the room?"

"Yes. However, considering the four of you attempted to wipe Professor Vector's memories, not to mention succeeded with Professor Hill, it must be a more complex enchantment than a simple Luring-"

"No, that's not what happened, Headmistress," I said earnestly. "There was a reason we had to go back."

She peered at me over her spectacles. "And what is this reason?"

I paused for a second. It was an unspoken agreement between the four of us that we wouldn't explain any of this to a teacher. But with the threat of death hanging over us, I figured the rules had changed.

So I explained everything to her. About the room giving us boosted elemental powers, about the Founder's experiments, about the Elementum Quadrumvirate. She didn't interrupt me, simply folded her hands together and listened to my rant.

Once I finished, my throat was dry from talking for nearly half an hour. Headmistress McGonagall scrutinized me, her piercing eyes shrewder than usual.

"The four of you expect to die in a few months," she said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes."

"There is a way to detect curses that affect one's lifespan," she said, pulling her wand from within her robes and pointing it at me. As she began muttering a spell I didn't recognize, my stomach cramped not in pain, but minor discomfort. I shifted uncomfortably, and the chair I sat in emitted a harsh squeak.

Headmistress McGonagall lowered her wand and I tilted my head questioningly.

"There is no evidence that your life is being affected by a curse," she said curtly.

My jaw dropped. "What?"

"There is no sign of your lifespan being reduced from a curse," she said. "If all proceeds as normal from this exact moment, you should live a regular, healthy life."

"Does that spell only detect normal curses?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Normal curses? Curses do not have _types_ , Miss Weasley."

"Yes, but the Founders were studying element-based magic, so it could be a different kind of curse. Like, not a general one that could be detected."

"Miss Weasley, curses are curses, and there is none placed on you!" she snapped. "And I am quite certain that were Mister Adler, Mister Lupin, and Miss Milden to come before me, their lives would be perfectly fine as well!"

I studied Headmistress McGonagall's irate expression, and the truth dawned on me. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"I do think you are being honest with me, but you must realize that your explanation sounds so far-fetched that it's ridiculous," she said stiffly. "I have never heard of the Founders experimenting with wandless magic in general, let alone building a contraption to give them augmented elemental powers. There are other cases in history of witches and wizards gaining higher magical prowess that didn't involve shamanistic runes or magical instruments!"

"I bet those cases didn't exclusively improve elemental magic, though," I retorted.

"I will do more research on this subject," said Headmistress McGonagall, obviously trying (and failing) not to provoke me. "But I believe the facts Mister Adler has acquired have been grossly exaggerated. There is no present danger to your life, and that is all I have to say on this matter."

"Headmistress-"

"That will be all, Miss Weasley."

I ignored the obvious dismissal and said urgently, "All the clues fit together and everything just makes _sense_." How else I could explain the frightening rush of power I channeled when casting a fire spell? I wasn't even sure whether she was denying the possibility because she honestly believed her curse-detector spell was foolproof, or because she was scared of the alternative.

She shook her head slowly and flicked her wand towards the door. It swung open, the hinges giving off a rusty creaking sound.

In desperation, I lifted the hem of my robes and pulled my pants down slightly, just enough to reveal the fire symbol branded on my hip. It was blacker than ever, standing out against my pale skin like a lump of coal in a snowy field.

"I got this on Halloween night," I said urgently. "We all did. Connor's is air, Edward's is earth, and Maia's is water. It's the four elements, and it can't be just a coincidence!"

She seemed to contemplate my words. "I do not believe it is a coincidence, but nor am I convinced that a mere mark has given the four of you augmented powers," she said finally. "It is unheard of in history."

"Everything in history starts off unheard of!" I shot back.

Headmistress McGonagall exhaled through her nose, then jerked her head towards the door.

I wanted to keep protesting, but judging by the fierce Gryffindor-ish expression on her face that probably mirrored my own, any more retorts would only land me another detention for talking back to a professor. Restraining my immense urge to start flinging Blasting Curses around the office, I stalked out of the room and down the stairs.

As the gargoyle twisted and closed shut behind me, I leaned against the wall and breathed out, trying to expel my frustration.

"Bon sang," I muttered darkly. A small part of me knew Headmistress McGonagall was being rational by not believing my tale; hell, I wouldn't have believed it if I had been the listener. But that didn't make it any easier to deal with.

I pushed myself off the wall and debated going to the Great Hall. Normally an exchange like that would have ruined my appetite, but oddly enough I was practically dizzy with hunger.

Then I took a few steps, and realized it wasn't just my imagination; I was really, _really_ dizzy.

Just those small movements caused the world around me to spin into a blur of noise and colour. Bile threatened to crawl up my throat. Fighting the urge to retch, I clapped a hand over my mouth, but before I could anything else my eyes slammed shut of their own accord.

The last thing I felt was my body crumpling onto the cold, hard floor.

* * *

"Where was she?"

"Not far from the Headmistress' office, I believe. She was lucky she was found so quickly, not many people pass by that corridor."

"I see…"

"Are you sure you're able to stay?"

"Yes, it's fine. I finished all my homework for today."

"All right, if you're certain. I won't be long. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."

I heard a set of footsteps pad away softly, then a door close. I struggled to open my eyes, but my eyelids seemed to weigh a thousand tons. I opened my mouth and tried to say, "What?" but all that came out was a hoarse croak.

A chair rasped backwards as whoever was sitting on it stood up abruptly. "Victoire?"

I recognized the voice, but since it was the unlikeliest one I could imagine, I said tentatively, "Edward?"

"Yes."

I tried again and managed to pry my eyes open.

I was lying in a bed in the hospital wing, with Edward standing near the foot of the bed. No other student was inside the room. The night sky outside the windows was littered with stars, which surprised me. I felt very well-rested, yet when I had left Headmistress McGonagall's office it had already been dark outside.

"What are you doing here?" I said, the words coming out slurred.

"I heard you collapsed in the middle of the hallway," he said bluntly.

"I know that!" I barked. "I'm not amnesiac."

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't implying that you are."

I lifted my head off the pillow, but a fresh wave of dizziness sent me crashing back onto the bed. "What time is it?"

"It's just after eight," he replied.

I frowned. "So I only passed out for an hour?"

Edward grimaced. "Actually, you were passed out for a little more than 24 hours."

"What?!" I shrieked. "I was unconscious for a whole bloody day?!"

"You probably would have woken up earlier, but Madam Pomfrey kept you unconscious because she had to draw the toxins from your body, and apparently the spell is quite painful if you're conscious."

"Toxins? What toxins?"

He threw me a stony look. "According to her, you've been overdosing on Dreamless Sleep potion."

My mouth fell open. I supposed I had been drinking too much lately, but the word _overdosing_ hadn't even crossed my mind. It sounded so…clinical.

Edward stepped closer, placing one hand on the bed. "Victoire, ingesting too much Dreamless Sleep potion is potentially fatal, and Madam Pomfrey said she warned you about that. It affected you so badly because of sudden stress, which I reckon I know what that stems from. I You might have _died_ if you weren't found right away."

"Who did find me?" I asked, ignoring the blatant reference to our element tattoos.

"Maia. She was on her way to the Great Hall and took that hallway as a shortcut."

I blinked. "Oh." That was unexpected. Normally, I wouldn't have liked being in debt to a Slytherin, but Maia I didn't mind so much. I'd gotten to know her fairly well over the past week and half; she wasn't the nicest person, but I felt like I was beginning to understand her better.

"I was right that day, then," said Edward. At my puzzled look her clarified, "The night you crashed into me. I deduced you weren't sleeping."

I glared at him. " _You_ crashed into _me_. And after that day, I was sleeping perfectly fine."

"Yes, but only because of the potion. It's not supposed to be consumed regularly."

"I know that!" I snapped. "But I couldn't sleep without it, and if I didn't drink enough it didn't work!"

Edward regarded me curiously. "Assuming you drink it to suppress your dreams, is it always the same dream every night?"

"Yes," I said, a note of suspicion creeping into my voice.

He dropped back onto his chair. "I used to have the same problem," he confessed. "Recurring dreams. I still do, sometimes, but very rarely."

My eyes widened. That was possibly even more shocking than Maia rescuing me. "Really? What about?"

He eyed me carefully. "If I tell you about my dreams, will you tell me about yours?"

I hesitated. I never told anyone about the subject of my dreams. I thought my parents suspected, but they never pressed and I never told. But if I couldn't even drink the Dreamless Sleep potion anymore (since I was certain Madam Pomfrey wouldn't give me another drop) my choices were to either barely sleep like before, or tell _someone_ in the hopes of something, anything, changing.

Of course, this was _Edward_ I was talking about. He was the last person I would want to share my private dreams with. If he had similar experiences, though, maybe it would help to discuss them with him. And now that he'd brought up his own dreams, I was overly curious as to what his were about.

"Deal," I said finally.

He nodded and took a deep breath. "Alright. So. I…I used to dream about my parents."

I stared at him in confusion. Edward had never met his parents-both of them had been killed during the Battle of Hogwarts. He must have sensed my confusion because he said, "I've seen enough photos of them that I can easily picture their faces, even when I'm sleeping."

"Anyway, I would be sitting in a chair in my bedroom," he began, looking down and twisting his school tie nervously between his fingers. "I'm not tied down or anything, but I can't move. My parents would walk into the room and tell me how disappointed they were in me, that I wasn't trying hard enough in anything and that I wasn't good enough to be their son."

"You know that's not true, right?" I said. "Uncle Harry's told me about your parents, and they sound awesome."

His dad was a werewolf and his mum was a Metamorphmagus, which was unique even in the Wizarding world. Even though they'd only been together for about a year, Uncle Harry had mentioned that they'd been very happy.

"Deep down I know they wouldn't say that to me," said Edward softly. "I suppose you could say I put what I think their expectations would have been on my shoulders. Like, my dad was a prefect at Hogwarts, so I felt compelled to be a prefect too."

"Which you are."

"I am," he agreed. "But I had to work so damn hard for the position that sometimes I don't even know whether it was worth it. There were plenty of times I sacrificed time with my friends to study or do homework instead, times that I'm starting to regret. And even now, when I _am_ the Hufflepuff prefect, I still feel like I have to do better. When I do dream about my parents, they still tell me that as a son of two war heroes, I need to push myself harder."

"All of that stuff your dream parents are telling you is crap," I said firmly. "Sure, you're not Harry Potter; you haven't saved the school from certain danger every year of your schooling. Big deal. Headmistress McGonagall wouldn't have picked you as prefect if you were an incompetent idiot. And if you really worked that hard for it, then you deserve the prefect title."

Edward's mouth curled up in the barest hint of a smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"It is," I grumbled. "Don't expect another one anytime soon."

"I wasn't," he reassured me. "But enough about me. What are your dreams about?"

I scowled. "I'm not going to go into as much detail as you did."

"Fair enough."

I exhaled slowly. I was very tempted to back out and not say a word, but that would be unfair to Edward, not to mention my honour as a Gryffindor wouldn't let me withdraw from my side of the deal.

After a beat of silence, in which I avoided eye contact with Edward, I asked, "Do you remember Yvette and Dana?"

"Your old Gryffindor friends," he said, sounding horrified. "Don't tell me you dream about their-"

"Not their deaths," I said quickly. "I dream…I dream about them calling me from atop a cliff."

I glanced at him quickly, expecting him to laugh at me, but Edward didn't move. His eyes, normally flashing with anger and frustration at the sight of me, were solemn, patiently waiting for me to continue.

I lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug, doing my best to sound normal. "They're at the top of this mountain, and both of them are calling my name. Each time, I try to scale the mountain to reach them, and each time, I lose my footing and fall. But then I wake up just before hitting the ground."

He sat back in is chair, and I could practically see the wheels in his head turning. "You always fall before reaching the top?"

"Yes…?"

"Do you even _want_ to reach the top?"

"Of course I-"

"It's a dream," said Edward, interrupting my fervent response. "If you really wanted to reach the top, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to."

I gaped at his audacity and said fiercely, "They were my friends! I haven't seen them for almost a year other than in my bloody nightmares, but apparently that's the only way I'll be able to see them!"

"If you really want to see them that much, why were you so insistent on drinking the Dreamless Sleep potion?" he pointed out.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. Edward grinned in triumph.

"Wipe that smirk off your face, or I'll cast a spell to do so," I warned.

He sighed. "Victoire, I'm trying to help you. You're being difficult."

"And you're treating me like I'm a ten-year-old," I retorted. "I'm only two years younger than you, and I could easily beat you in a duel. Probably blindfolded, too."

Edward raised his hands to placate me. "Sorry… the last time I really talked to you, you _were_ ten."

I tried to remember that time while masking my relief at the subject change. I didn't feel like dwelling on Yvette and Dana any longer than I had to.

"That time I asked about Hogwarts?"

"Yes," he said with a chuckle. "You wanted to know what the castle looked like, and when I told you it should be a surprise you threw a fit."

"Well, none of the adults would tell me anything, so you were my only option," I huffed.

He shrugged. "I did tell you about the professors."

"You lectured me on the homework load."

"I was simply encouraging you to do the work when you came to Hogwarts."

I raised an eyebrow. "And did it work?"

"Apparently not," he muttered.

I couldn't help it-I burst out laughing. I half expected Edward to join in, but he just stared at me like I was insane.

"What's so funny?" he asked cluelessly.

"Nothing," I said, wiping tears of mirth from my eyes. "Nothing a prefect would understand."

He frowned, but before he could question me further the office door opened and Madam Pomfrey stepped out. My lingering grin dropped from my face. Upon seeing me conscious, she emitted a short shriek and hurried to my bedside.

"Miss Weasley!" she uttered in a tone so vicious I instinctively shifted away from her. " _What_ did you promise me when I gave you that bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion?"

"That I wouldn't drink more than a mouthful a day?" I said meekly.

"Yes, you did, yet you clearly drank much more!" she raged. "I warned you that drinking too much can kill you!" She waved her wand and the drawer in the nightstand beside me shot open. Grabbing a square flask, she uncorked the top and thrust it towards my face.

I dutifully opened my mouth and allowed Madam Pomfrey to pour the amber concoction down my throat. As soon as the liquid hit my tongue, I gagged.

"What is this stuff?" I asked, wincing at the taste.

"It's Blood-Replenishing Potion," supplied Edward. "Like the name suggests, it restores a person's blood quantity."

"I lost blood?"

"Your spleen was affected by your overdose and started bleeding internally," Madam Pomfrey informed me. "It required a tricky bit of magic that you should be grateful you were unconscious for."

She placed the flask back inside the drawer and turned to look me in the eye. Her blue eyes were large and stern. "If I'm not here, make sure you drink the Blood-Replenishing Potion every three hours."

"Okay."

Madam Pomfrey looked at me warily. I couldn't blame her. When it came to keeping promises, my track record was horrible. However, she didn't comment on it and simply nodded before retreating back to her office, closing the door swiftly behind her.

"What's she doing in her office?" I wondered aloud.

"I'm not sure, but I think it's got to do with Professor Jaron," replied Edward. "He came in a few hours after you were brought in and talked to Madam Pomfrey in private, and after he left she shut herself up in her office. Apart from periodically checking in on you, she hasn't strayed from there."

"Professor Jaron?" I said in bewilderment. I couldn't remember him ever interacting with Madam Pomfrey personally.

He shrugged. "I only know what I saw."

"You saw-How long were you with me?"

Edward's cheeks turned pink, and his hair colour soon followed suit. "I came yesterday after I heard about you. Then I came back to visit this evening after dinner, about half an hour before you woke up."

"Oh." I struggled to think of something to say to that that wasn't too rude or dismissive. "Should I take that as a compliment?"

He smirked. "Yes, but don't expect another one anytime soon."

I grinned, recognizing my earlier line. "Well played, Mister Prefect."

Edward groaned at the nickname. His eyes cut to the clock in the room and he instantly stood up, grabbing his school bag from the floor. "I promised Connor and Maia I'd contact them if you woke up, so I'd better tell them. They're in the library-I need to get borrow a book from there anyway."

"Sure, call them to my not-quite deathbed. It's not like I wanted you here any longer," I said sarcastically, but the usual spite in my voice wasn't there, so the phrase came out sounding more like friendly teasing.

Edward's eyebrows rose, but he just gave me a half-hearted wave before leaving the hospital wing.

I quickly glanced at Madam Pomfrey's office door, confirming it was closed, then slid my wand from my sleeve. Running my fingers over the slender aspen wood, I absentmindedly rubbed at a patch of grime near the tip.

Originally, my mother was going to give me my grandmother's wand-applewood and Veela hair-as was tradition for the eldest child of a part-Veela. But when I'd tried holding the wand, I could tell right away that it wasn't the right wand for me. It was like I could feel the wand's disdain for me, and the feeling had been mutual.

Thus the applewood wand went to Dominique instead, who loved it, and when I went shopping in Diagon Alley the summer before first year, my father took me to Ollivander's Wand Shop.

I had been tricky customer. Ollivander had pulled out box after box and countless wands were turned down. Rather than growing frustrated, the ancient wandmaker had seemed elated by the challenge. Eventually, he had given me yet another case, and intoned, "Aspen and dragon heartstring, twelve and a quarter inches."

As soon as I'd grasped the wand, a fiery heat had surged between my fingertips and a burst of flame had rocketed from the end of the wand. Everyone had been delighted I'd finally found a wand, especially the waiting students and parents in line behind us. According to Ollivander, witches and wizards wielding aspen wands were often great duellists.

I snapped back to the present and contemplated what I'd just remembered: the very first piece of magic I'd performed with my wand had been fire. I mentally added it to the list of instinctive fire magic I'd done in the past that seemed to have occurred too often to have been a simple coincidence. And like Ollivander had predicted, I had become a pretty good duellist. It was almost funny, the way the past and present was converging…and if our research and predictions were correct, no doubt the future would follow.

Two pairs of footsteps sounded in the hall outside. I hastily tucked my wand back in my sleeve just as Connor and Maia walked inside.

Connor made his way to the bed and perched on the edge, looking at me worriedly. "Vic, what exactly happened?"

I frowned. "Edward didn't tell you?"

"Lupin said we should ask you," replied Maia, sitting down in the chair Edward had vacated. "All I know is that you spontaneously fainted in the middle of the hall."

I silently cursed him and said vaguely, "It's not that bad, really. I just drank too much of a potion when I wasn't supposed to." Shooting a look at Maia, I added, "Edward said you were the one who found me?"

She gave a brief nod. "I turned the corner of that hall just in time to see you collapse, and fetched Madam Pomfrey. She seemed to realize what had happened, so she levitated you to the hospital wing and told me she'd handle the rest."

"I see…Thanks."

For the first time since I'd met her, Maia smiled. Not a condescending smirk, but a genuine grin. "No problem, but you owe me one, Weasley."

"Next time someone challenges you to a duel, I'll be your second," I offered.

She shrugged. "Whatever. I'll hold you to that."

Connor looked appalled. "How are the both of you taking this so lightly?! I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you almost died!"

"We're all going to die soon anyway," said Maia pointedly before I could reply. "Remember?"

"We talked about this already," said Connor in a resigned voice.

My blue eyes flicked to his caramel ones. "You did?"

"Since you were unconscious yesterday evening, I told Maia and Edward about the runes from Rowena's scroll, since we didn't know exactly when you would wake up," he said sheepishly.

"You decoded it?" I asked eagerly. I bolted straight up, but the action caused my head to spin and I fell back against the pillow. "What did it say?"

He reached into his bag and tossed me the scroll. I unrolled it and scanned the faded parchment. Connor had written his translations underneath Rowena's faded runes, though his ink had nearly bled through the centuries-old parchment.

The beginning was what I had expected: Rowena had started off by recapping what we already knew about the Elementum Quadrumvirate. The Founders were the original four and they'd left the contraption that had given them their specific enhance elemental powers inside a certain abandoned room in Hogwarts.

But then the next line contained something we'd only been speculating about: the _reason_ they hid the contraption at Hogwarts.

I read the translation, then re-read it to make sure the words were real.

"They buried the contraption underneath Hogwarts because they thought the _future would have need of elemental powers_?" I asked in disbelief.

"Apparently," said Connor with a shrug.

"How did they even think of such a random theory?"

"Maybe they watched a sci-fi movie," Connor said, laughing.

Maia and I stared at him blankly.

"…What's a sci-fi movie?" I questioned.

"Never mind, it's a Muggle thing," he mumbled. "You'll probably learn it in Muggle Studies soon enough, anyway. To answer your question seriously, they likely assumed that if horrible things were happening in their time, the future would be even worse."

"The Founders sound like they were huge optimists," I quipped.

He snorted. "They were also very…creative."

"What do you mean?"

"If you read the next line, Rowena mentions the name Godric Gryffindor bestowed on the contraption."

I examined the next line and choked. "The _Element-Giver_?"

"You should be proud that your Founder had such a great imagination," Maia deadpanned.

I scowled. "And what did Salazar do? Oh, right, he ran away and died from refusing to drink the bloody Revermal potion."

She raised a brow. "If not for Salazar Slytherin, we would have no link to the Revermal potion recipe."

It took a few seconds for her words to sink in. "What?" I gasped.

Maia motioned towards the parchment with her right hand in an clear keep-reading gesture.

My gaze returned to the scroll, and I quietly read through all of Connor's translations.

Once I finished a few minutes later, I sat up and ignored the protesting throb in my head. "Let me guess this straight. Salazar died, but arranged beforehand what would be inscribed on his gravestone?"

Connor nodded. "Yep. Then when the other Founders caught up with him, they noticed the grave was a map to the recipe."

"How the hell is a grave a _map_?"

"I don't know, Rowena didn't elaborate on that point," he answered. "I reckon it would be clear from actually seeing the grave."

I eyed the parchment dubiously. "But why did the Founders-well, minus Salazar-try to destroy his grave?"

"They didn't want anyone to know about the potion," said Maia. "According to Rowena, the remaining Founders were worried that if the future Elementum Quadrumvirate, meaning us, had easy access to the potion, they would activate the Element-Giver's power and drink the Revermal potion a few months later. By repeating the process, they would essentially have unlimited, perpetual power."

"Which is what the Founders feared the most," added Connor. "And if you read the next line-"

I glanced at it quickly and caught the word 'sacrifice'.

"-it's implied that if the Wizarding world needed the elemental power that badly, then the new Elementum Quadrumvirate wouldn't mind, well, forfeiting their lives in the process."

"But we developed them from an accident!" I protested. "We're not trying to save the world or anything!"

"I don't think the Founders considered this eventuality," remarked Maia.

I ground my teeth together in frustration. "So our only option if we want to survive is to go to Salazar Slytherin's bloody grave in Andorra?"

"Is that even a viable option?" asked Maia doubtfully. "We'd have to tell our parents and the teachers everything we've researched so far-"

I swore loudly, a cold pit forming in my stomach. Both Connor and Maia shot me looks of alarm.

"I already tried telling Headmistress McGonagall about what we'd learned so far," I said. "She didn't believe me."

"You told her everything?" Connor yelped.

"You could have given us a little warning before assuming we were all fine with it," Maia spat.

"I didn't walk into her office intending to tell her!" I snapped. "Edward's Memory Charm didn't work on Professor Vector and she remembered being Stunned. McGonagall thought we were magically lured back to the room, but I didn't know that until after I mentioned the Founders and the Elementum Quadrumvirate."

Connor blinked. "Come again?"

"She said there was an enchantment similar to the Luring Charm cast on the doorway," I explained.

He looked thoughtful. "It could be true. We did unanimously agree to return to the room, even though it was only a slim chance of us actually finding anything of use."

"One of the Founders probably cast the spell to make sure the new Elementum Quadrumvirate found Rowena's letter," said Maia.

That was a scary thought. The Founders not only planned all of this down to the letter, they were also manipulating our actions. Centuries into the future.

"That doesn't help our case, though," I said. "She thought I was exaggerating the effects of our increased elemental power."

Maia rolled her eyes. "Show her tangible evidence, then."

"Huh?"

"What gave us our powers in the first place?"

Connor's eyes lit up. "The Element-Giver! If we bring Headmistress McGonagall to the room and either activate it or dig it up, it should be enough to convince her!"

A grin split my face. "That's brilliant," I admitted.

Maia sniffed, but she looked pleased. "Just because I'm not a Ravenclaw know-it-all doesn't mean I don't have a brain."

"I'm not a…" Connor trailed off when he caught our pointed looks. "Okay, maybe I am, but it's not a bad thing!"

"Whatever you say, jokester," I said airily.

"I found most of the information we'd uncovered about this mess," he said defensively. "Not to mention translating the letter you're currently holding. And-"

"Yes, yes, thank you Connor," I said hurriedly.

"He does have a point," Maia mused. "At least he didn't nearly suffer an untimely demise."

"Hang on," I said, the revelation striking me harder than a physical punch. "I nearly died."

"I think you've been told that enough times that it should have already sunk in by now," she noted.

"No, one of the reasons Headmistress McGonagall didn't believe me is because that spell she used determined that my lifespan was perfectly fine," I said excitedly. "But at the time it would have been affected by the potion's toxins, so I should have been near death!"

"Can you stop bringing up your brush with death?" Connor groaned.

"Don't you see?" I said. "It's proof her spell didn't cover whatever curse we're under!"

"Spells are never infallible," said Connor. "It could be helpful in proving our case, but it's not enough. After all, toxins aren't a curse. The Element-Giver is impossible to deny because its sole function is related to our elemental powers. We can even show her the element rune in the ground."

"True," I conceded reluctantly.

"What's that noise?" said Maia abruptly.

I tilted my head to one side and listened hard. In the distance, the faint sound of someone screaming could be heard. Goosebumps prickled to life on my arms, alerting me to danger.

"Someone's screaming," I reported. "I can't hear what exactly they're saying, though-"

Suddenly, a thunderous boom reverberated through the air, loud enough to send a shockwave through the ground. My bed shook like a leaf, and the chair Maia was sitting on splintered and cracked in half. She dropped to the ground, landing on her arse, and cursed.

I pushed the blankets off me and swung out of bed. Black and white shapes swam in front of my vision from the sudden movement, but I managed to stand shakily without falling.

The door to Madam Pomfrey's office burst open, and the matron rushed outside with her wand drawn. She took one look at the three of us and demanded, "What is going on?"

"I don't know!" I shouted. "Someone screamed and there was an explosive-"

Edward burst into the hospital wing, his face paler than usual. His mouth was set in a grim line, but it didn't hide the terror in his dark yellow eyes.

Dark yellow was a colour I couldn't remember ever seeing on him, hair or eyes. Even though he hadn't said a word yet, fear swept through me like an unstoppable tidal wave.

"What is going on?" Madam Pomfrey repeated urgently.

He visibly swallowed. "There's been a breach in Hogwarts security. The escaped Death Eaters…they've entered the castle."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"The escaped Death Eaters are _inside_ Hogwarts?!" I screeched. "How the hell did they get in?"

"I don't know!" Edward yelled in response. "When I left the library Aedan ran up to me and said the Ravenclaw prefect, Uma Goldstein, just got attacked by a masked Death Eater. Then I came here because I knew the three of you were still here. That's all I know."

"So it was Goldstein that we heard screaming earlier," noted Maia in an unnervingly calm voice.

"Do you know where she was attacked?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, a steely glint in her eye as she faced Edward. "Or the severity of her injuries?"

Edward thought about it. "She was supposed to patrol the east wing of the castle tonight and she must have been on the first floor, otherwise I wouldn't have heard her screaming. Aedan said she was unconscious and bleeding, but that it didn't look life-threatening."

Without another word, Madam Pomfrey waved her wand, causing a blue flask from her desk to fly into her left hand, and rushed out of the hospital wing.

Connor looked around frantically, as if the room walls were telling him what to do. "Do the professors know?"

"I doubt it," said Maia. "It's nighttime. Most of them would be shut up in their office."

I gasped. "Wait. Edward, how many students were in the library?"

"Only me, actually," he replied. "It's almost curfew. Everyone else had already left by the time I heard Uma's screams."

"Then the rest of the students would be in their dormitory," I said in horror. "They don't know about the Death Eaters!"

"We need to warn them as quickly as possible," said Edward, his voice slipping into his prefect tone. For once, I appreciated him taking charge in this situation.

"But it will take ages to run to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's dormitories," Maia pointed out. "Not to mention informing every individual professor."

My mind flashed back to the time Professor Patil had escorted me to Headmistress McGonagall's office, and what I'd asked her just before leaving.

"Hang on," I said. "I think I know a way to alert the entire castle."

"Are you sure?" asked Connor fervently.

"No," I said truthfully. "But I'm going to try. Just in case it doesn't work, you should all go warn your Houses."

Without bothering to see if they agreed, I drew my wand and headed to the doorway.

"Check the surroundings first!" Edward yelped.

I froze. "Right," I mumbled. Running into the hallway blindly with Death Eaters around would be very idiotic. I carefully poked my head out and surveyed the halls, but it was empty and silent.

"Clear," I said.

Just before I stepped outside the hospital wing, Connor grabbed onto my sleeve. "I'm coming with you."

"What? No. Go warn the Ravenclaws-"

"Like Maia said, it will take too long to get to the tower," said Connor. "If your way will warn the whole school, it's more important that you get there. Plus, I'm not letting you run to wherever you're going to by yourself." He gave me a small grin. "You've been training me, remember?"

I sighed, but inwardly I was touched by his support. "Fine, let's go."

The two of us left the hospital wing and hurried down the corridor. When I glanced back, Edward was racing in the opposite direction towards the Hufflepuff common room and Maia was dashing down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeon.

"So where exactly are we going?" panted Connor.

"The Headmistress' office," I answered.

He threw me a confused look. "But Headmistress McGonagall would be in her chambers at this time."

"I know," I said. It was common knowledge that the Headmistress preferred to stay in her room to work rather than her office, where students could 'bother her at any given moment'. "I'm not going there for her."

We stopped at a corner, and after checking to make sure there were no Death Eaters in sight, I waved Connor ahead. As we ran down the hall, I continued talking to him.

"One time I was sent to her office after a hallway duel. McGonagall has this table full of Dark Detectors, like my dad, but there was one I didn't recognize. She told me it's a Speleiré and that if someone with evil thoughts casts a spell near it, it'll set off a castle-wide alarm."

"A Speleiré?" said Connor reverently. "I've read about them."

"Of course," I muttered.

"They're really rare, I wonder how Headmistress McGonagall managed to acquire one."

"I dunno, go ask her later if you're that interested," I said as we slowed to a stop. I peered around the final corner. "I only care about its function-Damn."

"What?"

I frantically gestured for Connor to lower his voice, unable to tear my eyes away from the two black-robed figures striding down the hall towards us. "There are two Death Eaters coming this way!" I hissed.

He blinked in shock and glanced around. The hallway was completely bare. Even the usual suits of armour weren't stationed along this corridor. "There's nowhere to hide," he whispered.

"And if we run, we're going the wrong way," I finished his unspoken thought. Which only left one option; to fight. I breathed out and tightened my hold on my wand.

"Arm yourself," I said quietly.

Connor nodded shakily and pulled his wand from his pocket. "Do you really think we can take them?" he murmured.

I shrugged, which did nothing to ease the worry from his face.

The rhythmic tread of the two Death Eaters' footsteps grew louder and louder. Connor and I pressed our backs as close to the wall as possible. A few seconds later, two pairs of black boots entered my field of vision.

I didn't stop to look at their masked faces. Raising my wand, I shouted, "Flipendo!"

The closest Death Eater flew backwards and smashed face-first into the opposite wall. The other one tripped and fell-Connor must have used a Trip Jinx.

The Death Eater that I'd shoved at the wall recovered quickly and loosed a nonverbal curse at me. I ducked underneath the spell and looked up. The mask had fallen off his face when he'd collided with the wall, revealing the thin, dark features of Rabastan Lestrange; a face I recognized from hours spent poring over the pictures of all the escaped Death Eaters printed in the Daily Prophet one year ago.

Rabastan's eyes roved over me, and he sneered. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that blood was pouring from his nose, which l reckoned was broken. "Listen, puny girl," he said in disdain. "Tell your friend to put down his wand and we'll spare your-"

"Stupefy!" I interrupted, pointing my wand directly at his face.

His eyes widened almost comically in surprise; a second later, they closed as he toppled backwards, unconscious.

My attention was distracted from his prone form when Connor cried out. I turned in time to see him a yellow-green jet of light strike him in the chest. He dropped to the ground from the force of the spell, his wand clattering out of his hand.

The Death Eater's wand moved from Connor to me and another yellow-green burst flew towards me. I dodged to one side, the jet nearly grazing my shoulder, and fired off another Stupefy. The Death Eater slashed his wand in a downwards arc, dissipating the spell, and said in a harsh, undeniably male voice, "Avada Kedavra!"

I gasped and dropped to the ground. The wind from the Killing Curse whipped violently past my head, ruffling the top of my hair. I quickly aimed my wand at the Death Eater's face and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"

The Death Eater froze, limbs locking to his sides, and he slowly fell face-first to the floor. I walked over to him and kicked him onto his back before gingerly removing his mask.

Electric blue eyes stared back at me, filled with loathing. His pale blond hair was greasier than it had been in the Daily Prophet picture, but he was still recognizable.

"Yaxley," I said coolly.

His eyes cut to the side, and I followed his gaze to where Connor was picking himself up off the floor. "Hey, jokester, are you okay?"

He lifted his wand from the floor, and I frowned. His movements were oddly stiff and lethargic, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong. "Connor?" I said hesitantly.

Without warning, Connor aimed his wand at me and shouted, "Stupefy!"

I threw myself to the right, skidding across the polished floor. When I looked back, Connor was gazing at me flatly, his outstretched wand pointing at my face.

I stared at him, then at Yaxley. The blond Death Eater's eyes were still moving, and I swore they were smirking at me. I recalled the distinctive yellow-green beam of light that had struck Connor, and the clues finally clicked into place.

"No, no, no, no, _no_ ," I groaned. "You put a _thirteen-year-old_ under the _Imperius Curse_?"

Connor launched another Stupefy at me. I irrelevantly noted that he normally couldn't cast that charm as I dodged to the side.

"Sorry jokester," I muttered under my breath before crying, "Incarcerous!"

Thick ropes flew from the end of my wand and twisted around Connor's struggling body. When they wrapped around his ankles, binding them together, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground.

I stepped up to him and picked up his wand, stowing it safely in my other sleeve. Then I moved onto Yaxley, whose blue eyes were definitely looking smug. I swiftly kicked him in the side, and his eyes slammed shut in pain.

"That's for using an Unforgivable on my friend," I said viciously.

After a brief glance at the hog-tied Connor, I took off around the corner and kept running. The only sounds were the pounding of my shoes against the polished floor and my own heartbeat, thudding loudly in my ears and most likely amplified by my own adrenaline. After hurrying down another long corridor, I found myself at the entrance to Headmistress McGonagall's office.

The gargoyle looked at me with its stone grey eyes. "Password?" it asked indifferently.

"Er…it's Felidae, right? Felidae!"

"Felidae was the old password," it said. "It was changed this morning."

"You've got to be bloody joking," I complained. "Look, it's an emergency. Can you just let me in?"

"Sorry, it's the rules," said the gargoyle. "I can't let anyone in without the password, even if the castle is burning down around me. Seventeen years ago, I didn't even let the Headmistress in because she didn't know the password."

I exhaled a puff of air in frustration and started pacing. Headmistress McGonagall had said that for the Speleiré's alarm to go off, the spellcaster had to have evil thoughts and perform a spell near the Speleiré. I eyed the hidden location of the office several feet above me, judging the distance between myself and the office.

"I hope this is close enough," I said, raising my wand and pointing it at the wall next to the gargoyle. "At least the table with the Dark Detectors is sort of near the doorway."

"What are you doing?" the gargoyle asked nervously.

I envisioned the wall crumbling to pieces and yelled, "Reducto!"

Naturally, the wall did not disintegrate; the reinforcements charms on the castle prevented it from doing so. My Reductor curse just bounced off the surface. But I had _intended_ the spell to destroy the wall, and it must have been enough because a second later, an ear-splitting alarm began blaring throughout the castle. Despite the pain it was causing my eardrums, I grinned.

Then I remembered that I'd left Connor with two Death Eaters. Ignoring the gargoyle's moans of eardrum-related pain, I whipped around and raced back to where he was.

When I got there, nothing had changed. Connor was still grappling with the ropes encircling his body and the two Death Eaters were lying still. After shooting a Stupefy in Yaxley's face, his disquieting blue eyes finally closed for good and Connor stopped writhing.

I knelt next to him and touched the tip of my wand to the ropes. "Relashio."

The ropes disappeared in a burst of purple sparks. Connor sat up and looked around, a puzzled expression settling on his face. "Vic. What happened?"

"I triggered the Speleiré," I replied.

"Yes, I noticed the alarm wailing overhead," he sighed. "Kind of hard to miss. I meant, what happened to me? Why was I tied up?"

"Er, I cast the Incarcerous spell. On you."

"Why-"

In answer, I pointed at Yaxley. "He placed the Imperius Curse on you."

Connor's mouth fell open. "Oh. That makes sense." He scanned me up and down. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

I shook my head, a devilish smirk gracing my lips. "No, but you did cast a couple Stupefys in my direction."

"Really?"

"Yep, so now we're even from that time we were partners in Defense Against the Dark Arts." I stood up and extended a hand toward him.

Connor took it and I hauled it backwards, pulling him up. Then I reached into my sleeve and gave him back his wand.

"Oh, thanks. I was wondering where it went," he said gratefully, placing it carefully in his robes. After glancing around, he added, "We'd better find Edward and Maia, or at least the professors."

"You're right," I agreed. "I reckon they'd-" I broke off, feeling a sudden twinge in my left hip where my fire tattoo was. "Do you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

Suddenly, a burning agony ripped through the tattoo, and I barely managed to gnash my teeth together to prevent myself from screaming. I clutched at the area desperately, trying to alleviate the pain.

"Okay, I feel that," said Connor through gritted teeth. He was hunched over like an old man, and I remembered that his air tattoo was on his back.

The pain vanished. I winced, flexing my hip carefully. "What the bloody hell was that?"

"That would be my fault, I'm afraid," said a voice behind us. "I am terribly sorry about the pain it no doubt caused."

We both turned around, my wand flying forwards to face the stranger. I had expected the voice to belong to a Death Eater, but it wasn't.

A short, rather plump man stood a few feet away. He was garbed in a long, acolyte-style grey cloak, trimmed with gold along the edges. The hood pulled over his head concealed most of his facial features, but I could make out an auburn goatee. An unusually long wand hung loosely in his right hand.

"It is fortunate that I ran into two of you," he mused. "Of course, all four would have been better, but since I only expected one, two is not bad."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I spat, taking a step towards him.

He lifted an eyebrow. "Why, the Elementum Quadrumvirate, of course."

I stopped in my tracks. "What?" I chanced a quick look at Connor, whose face had gone extremely white.

"Oh, don't play dumb," he said, sounding faintly amused. "The pain you just experienced came from the spell I performed a moment ago. It determines the location of the possessors of the four elemental powers, previously borne by the Founders of Hogwarts."

He raised his wand and swished it in mid-air, as if drawing a diagram. Glowing white runes flickered into existence inside a tapestry of crisscrossing lines. Blistering agony radiated from my fire tattoo again, and I flinched. Beside me, Connor grunted in pain.

The man stared at them intently, then slashed his wand through them. With a soft pop, the runes vanished.

"The hydromancer is in the dungeons, and the geomancer is attempting to penetrate the Great Hall," he remarked.

My face scrunched up in confusion. "The what and the what?"

"Hydro means of or relating to water, and geo is the same for earth," Connor explained quietly. "When it's paired with the suffix _mancer_ , it's an allusion to one who can control those elements. He must be referring to Maia and Edward."

"And of course the pyromancer and aeromancer are in standing in front of me, in the flesh!" cried the man in delight. "Tell me, have your powers manifested yet?"

Connor opened his mouth, but I barrelled over him. "Why should we tell you anything?"

The man reached a hand up and removed his hood, revealing a plain face, hazel eyes, and a head covered in thick auburn curls. "Because I am Graham Easton, and I serve the true leader of the Elementum Quadrumvirate."

"The original Elementum Quadrumvirate never had a leader," stated Connor. "The Founders were all friends; none of them had a higher standing."

Graham grinned toothily. "I wasn't talking about one of the Founders, aeromancer. They may not have had a leader, but once Salazar Slytherin left the group the remaining three unanimously agreed to choose one trusted person to grant the knowledge of their powers."

"Why would they do that?"

He stared at me. "One of the Founders, supposedly a great wizard with cunning mind, chose power over his own life," he said slowly, as if explaining to a small child. "After that, they didn't trust themselves not to follow down the same path. So they picked a very close friend, and told this friend everything about what they'd researched, the powers they'd gained, and how they'd locked those powers away."

"You're lying," said Connor in a surprisingly confident tone.

Both Graham and I turned to face him. Graham's eyebrows rose. "A bold claim. Why would I lie to you if I'm hoping to sway you to my side?"

Connor shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe the truth isn't pretty, or you think you can underestimate us because we're only thirteen. But what you just said doesn't add up. _Because_ Salazar chose to keep his water powers, the Founders didn't trust anyone anymore. That's why they locked away their powers and only left information for the new Elementum Quadrumvirate to discover. There's no mention of any other people being in on the secret, so if there was someone else who knew, it certainly wasn't someone the Founders allowed to know."

Graham hesitated. Then a smile broke across his face, and he nodded. "Well done, aeromancer. Would I be correct in assuming you are in Ravenclaw?"

"No, really? Did his blue and bronze tie give it away?" I asked sarcastically.

Graham's gaze flicked to me. "Actually, pyromancer, it was the fact that he is the aeromancer," he said. "Rowena Ravenclaw was the aeromancer of the Elementum Quadrumvirate, and only one of her chosen could inherit the power she had over-"

A shockwave ripped through the ground again, even more powerful than the initial one. As Connor and I fought to keep our balance, Graham remained unaffected, merely looking up at the ceiling and smiling like it was raining joy on him.

"And that would be my signal," he said calmly. "You wanted to know why I lied, aeromancer? It is because I was distracting the two of you."

"Distracting…" I trailed off, staring at him in horror. "You're working for the _Death Eaters_?"

"We're not working _for_ them," he said indignantly. "My leader brokered a mutually beneficial alliance with their new leader."

"Their new leader?!" I all but shouted. Voldemort was long dead-who the hell was the Death Eaters' new leader?

He smiled mysteriously. "I think you will have to find that out on your own, pyromancer…and I'm afraid I must take my leave. However, I am sure we will meet again, hopefully under more favourable circumstances."

Graham turned away, his cloak fanning out behind him, and started walking back in the direction he'd come from. Without thinking, I aimed my wand at his back and yelled, "Impedimenta!"

He instantly whirled around and threw up a Shield Charm. A translucent barrier sprang up between us, reflecting the candlelight as tiny pinpricks of light. My Impediment jinx ricocheted off the shield and dissipated in mid-air.

"That's not very Gryffindor of you, pyromancer," he tutted. "Attacking a wizard with their back turned is not chivalrous at all."

"If you're working with the Death Eaters, then I don't consider you a wizard," I snarled. "They're the lowest bloody levels of scum in the Wizarding world, and if you're with them, then I'll give you the same treatment I'd give to them."

Graham lifted one shoulder in a tiny shrug. His expression was nonchalant, but the intense look in his overly bright eyes suddenly gave me the impression that I'd just pissed off a wizard who was more dangerous than he seemed.

"If that is how you want to play, then so be it," he said. He raised his wand again and whispered a spell I didn't catch.

A huge blast of pure light erupted from the tip and soared towards us. I rapidly shouted, "Protego!"

A silver shield shimmered into existence in front of us, but the spell tore right through it as if it wasn't even there. The light passed over us, and for a second I felt unusually light-headed.

When the sensation passed, I locked eyes with Graham and smirked. "Was that the best you can do?"

Graham just tilted his head and smirked back, looking very amused. "Wait a few seconds before making conclusions, pyromancer. I fear your arrogance will be your undoing."

The alarm blaring overhead seemed to fade away. I frowned and glanced around, then realized my surroundings had become overly saturated with colour. Everything was brighter than before. The walls, which had been a dull brown, were suddenly glowing a metallic copper. The candles seemed to outshine the sun, leaving harsh afterimages on my retinas when I turned my head.

As the world around me illuminated to an unhealthy degree, I moved my head to see if Connor was experiencing the same thing, but the simple effort made the lights intensify even more, overloading my brain. I closed my eyes to alleviate the feeling, which turned out to be a mistake. As soon as my eyelids slid shut, a lava-hot surge exploded behind my vision and my knees grew weak. I gasped and keeled over.

Dimly, I heard Connor fall down next to me, and Graham's voice whispering "Elementum Quadrumvirate" over us like a reverential prayer.

Then his footsteps moved away from us, farther and farther, and I lost track of time and feeling.

* * *

Something unceremoniously poked me in the forehead. It took me a few seconds to realize it was someone's wand. Groaning, I weakly batted it away.

Someone's hand closed around my wrist and shook it. "Vic, get up!" the person said frantically.

My eyes cracked open. "Connor?"

"We both passed out for a minute," he said. "But the battle's still going on, I can still hear sounds of duelling."

I scrambled up. After checking to make sure I still had my wand and confirming Graham was nowhere in sight, I demanded, "Where?"

"Er, the noises are coming from there." He pointed in the general direction of the Great Hall.

"Okay." I glanced down at the unconscious bodies of the two Death Eaters. "What about them?"

Connor followed my gaze. "You hit them pretty hard. I reckon they're going to stay that way for the next couple of hours."

"If you say so."

The two of us took off down the hallway, arriving at the Great Hall a few minutes later. To my great confusion, what seemed like the entire student population of Hogwarts was massed outside the large doorway, and for such a huge group of students they were unusually quiet.

I stood up on my tiptoes. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know, I can't see anything either," said Connor, straining upwards.

"Well, duh. You're half a head shorter than me," I sighed.

Giving up, I grabbed Connor's hand and forged a path through the crowd. I pushed a seemingly endless amount of students aside, scowling back at anyone who dared to glare at me, until we reached the entrance.

I froze in my tracks, dropping Connor's hand in shock.

"Wha-" he began before looking past me, his jaw dropping open.

The inside of the Great Hall had been turned into a battlefield. All the House tables had been overturned, with the dishes smashed on the floor and countless forks and knives peppering the floor. Up at the staff table, about a dozen Death Eaters were firing curses at the professors, who were dodging the spells while simultaneously throwing their own hexes back at them. Several seventh-year students were participating in the battle too, hurling spell after spell at the Death Eaters. Streaks of multicoloured light flashed in every direction, lighting up the Great Hall like a deadly fireworks display.

Despite the Death Eaters being outnumbered three to one, neither side seemed to have an advantage; mainly because most of the Death Eaters were casting Killing Curses. As I watched in horror, a green jet narrowly missed Professor Longbottom's head, and I quickly stepped forward.

"Don't take another step!"

I stopped and looked to my right, where Professor Binns was pointing a finger at me accusingly. "Don't move, Miss Wallace. It's dangerous in there!"

"It's Weasley!" I snapped and moved forwards again, but Professor Binns floated in front of me and I halted to avoid running right through him.

"The professors have it handled," he said sternly. "They are much more qualified to fight off intruders than you."

"I'm as good at duelling as they are," I said fiercely, not caring how arrogant it sounded, nor that Connor was staring at me in alarm. "I can help them-"

"Victoire! Connor!"

At the sound of Edward's voice, I glanced back in time to see him and Maia burst from the crowd behind us. I frowned. "Where were you? I thought you were here."

Edward paused, a wary expression settling on his face. "I was, but then I left to help escort the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws from their towers," he said. "How did you know I was here?"

"Long story, I'll explain later," I answered.

"We have time," said Maia, waving a hand at the staff and the Death Eaters.

"We shouldn't _have_ time!" I cried. "There's a bloody _battle_ going on and we're sitting here like poisonous ducks!"

"Yes, but Professor Binns and the seventh-years who opted not to fight were tasked with preventing us from joining," she replied. "So we don't really have a choice."

The Head Boy, a seventh-year Hufflepuff named Oliver Aisne, overheard her and corrected, "We're not preventing you from joining, we're protecting you from harm."

I laughed incredulously. "Seriously? I reckon I can protect myself better than you can, thank you very much."

Oliver scowled. "You're a third-year stu-"

Several students behind us screamed, and we all looked towards the battlefield. A shower of red-hot stars arced just below the ceiling and sailed towards us. It was a beautiful sight, but if the flames surrounding the stars were any indication, they wouldn't be so pretty when they burned half of the students. The Death Eater who'd cast the spell looked triumphant for a half-second before rejoining the battle.

As Oliver panicked at the sight of the stars, I pushed him aside and raised my wand. "Protego Maxima!"

A faint tremor ran through my wand, then a giant silver half-sphere expanded from the tip and curved in front of the entire doorway. The burning stars rained down on my shield, producing numerous loud crackling sounds, but it held.

Once the assault was over, I lowered my wand and glared pointedly at Oliver, who was gaping at me in shock.

"I-but-that's a N.E.W.T.-level spell!" he sputtered.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm really getting sick of everyone saying that," I spat as I marched forwards into the Great Hall. "And underestimating me."

"Miss Woodley, get back here!" ordered Professor Binns.

"If there is a Miss Woodley, she should already be there!" I shouted over my shoulder without stopping. "Because _I'm not her!_ "

"Wait-Vic, look!" shouted Connor.

I huffed and glanced back, but when I saw what Connor was pointing at, my frustration evaporated on the spot.

Graham had appeared at the edge of the staff room. His robes swished behind him as he approached the nearest Death Eater and spoke something. The Death Eater nodded and, pointing his wand skywards, barked, "Morsmordre!"

Thick green smoke wafted from his wand, accumulating in the air to form a giant green skull. As a smoky green snake coiled out of its mouth, shrieks rang out from the frightened crowd of students. Even the teachers looked rattled by its sudden appearance; after all, the Dark Mark hadn't been seen by anyone for nearly fifteen years.

Professor Flitwick's head craned back as he followed the snake's progress with his eyes, and he caught sight of me. His eyes widened and he cried, "Miss Weasley, what are you-get back to safety!"

"I can help!" I protested loudly, drawing the attention of Professor Jaron, who was standing nearby.

"Victoire," began Professor Jaron, neatly deflecting an oncoming hex, "I know you're a talented duellist, but when it comes to real-life experience, you have none. We outnumber the Death Eaters. We can handle them-"

"Professor!" I yelped, pointing behind him.

He swiftly turned around. Apparently the Dark Mark had been some sort of signal, because the Death Eaters were no longer trying to hold the staff table. They were launching Killing Curses and fleeing into the side door where the professor usually came from when entering the Great Hall.

The professors followed them, but before I could move Professor Jaron pinned me with a stern look.

"Victoire, _do not follow us_!" he ordered. "If you want to help, stay here and protect your fellow students."

Before I could protest any more, he scurried after the other teachers. Professor Sprout bit her lip uncertainly before rushing to the mass of students. Evidently she had decided to protect them in case the Death Eaters ended up looping back to the Great Hall.

A hand tugged on my sleeve and I spun around, coming face to face with a pair of wide caramel eyes.

"Connor?" I said in surprise. When had he followed me onto the battlefield?

"Are you determined to fight because you think it's our fault the Death Eaters invaded?"

I hesitated. "Yes," I reluctantly admitted. "But it is our fault, isn't it? Whatever made them decide to invade has to do with the Elementum Quadrumvirate."

"Partially," he conceded. "But we'll talk more about that later, with Edward and Maia. Anyway, if you really want to go after them…I know another way of getting to where the Death Eaters and professors will eventually exit."

"Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

We both sprinted out of the Great Hall and rejoined Edward, Maia, and an irate Professor Binns at the doorway. Professor Binns started yelling at me, but I completely tuned him out and said, "We're following the Death Eaters through a different route."

"Why-" began Edward.

"We'll explain later," Connor cut in. "She does have a reason, and I don't exactly approve of it, but I understand."

"I'll hold you to that," said Edward somewhat stiffly. "And the other 'explain later' when Victoire somehow knew where I was from the other side of the castle."

"Yes, yes," I said dismissively. "Are you coming with us? 'Cause we're going now."

To my surprise, Maia agreed without blinking. Edward paused, glancing at Professor Binns for only a second before nodding.

"I forbid it!" shrieked Professor Binns, throwing out an arm to stop us. I walked right through it, shuddering only slightly when his arm passed through my head and my brain went cold for a few seconds.

"I can't believe we're actively hunting down Death Eaters," muttered Edward. Since I feared he would change his mind and turn back around, I didn't say anything.

Then it occurred to me that I actually wanted Edward with us. Maia too, even if we hadn't seen eye to eye at first. I wondered whether the Element-Giver had forged a link between us, one we couldn't see but was definitely there, because if any one of us four wasn't here it would have felt-somehow incomplete.

Since Connor was the one who knew where to go, he led us down two corridors and stopped in front of a portrait painting of Elfric the Eager. He took out his wand and tapped Elfric's right hand. As we watched, the hand morphed into a door handle and Connor yanked it open.

I peered inside. A long tunnel, about seven feet tall, stretched into the distance where a pinprick of light was visible against the dark background. I wrinkled my nose as the scent of dead rats drifted past me.

"Lovely," Maia deadpanned.

"Where did you learn about this passageway?" I asked.

Connor blinked. "Um, Professor Jaron mentioned it once."

I frowned. This wasn't the first time I suspected Professor Jaron and Connor were more than teacher-student acquaintances; Connor had once known the password to his office even though the students weren't supposed to know. Normally I would have simply assumed Professor Jaron was just giving Connor extra help, but _I_ was teaching Connor defensive spells and it didn't make sense for him to have twice as much help. Especially since this was _Connor_ I was talking about; he was smart and picked up spells fairly quickly.

"Are you going to wait for the Death Eaters to flee Hogwarts before moving?" said Maia in irritation, snapping me out of my reverie.

I shot her a swift glare before raising my wand. "Lumos!"

My wand tip glowed brightly, lighting up the path ahead of us. The four of us hurried down the path, and as I swept my wand from side to side, I realized why the tunnel stunk of rat.

"That's revolting," said Edward, eyeing the carcasses littering the ground with disgust.

"Not many know about this tunnel," said Connor. "I reckon the few who do don't bother to clean it up."

"Like you?" said Maia scornfully.

"This is actually the first time I've been down here-I never had a reason to come here before."

"Never? Where's your sense of adventure?" I teased.

"I'm not a Gryffindor," said Connor, but he grinned and added, "It is kind of…exhilarating. Although it would help if we weren't on a suicide mission."

I wanted to argue that no one was going to die, but since I was leading them to a pack of Death Eaters, I couldn't say the phrase truthfully. I just steeled myself and kept running down the tunnel.

The exit became larger as we approached it, but to my dismay it was no bigger than my shoe. From the distance it had looked a lot bigger than it actually was.

"Connor, a cat would have trouble fitting through there," I pointed out. "How the hell-"

"Don't worry, it's a trick designed to trap anyone who stumbles in here accidentally," said Connor quickly. He darted past me and pointed his wand at the small opening in the wall. Clearing his throat, he uttered, "Partis Temporus."

I expected the wall to rumble loudly like the room beside the Great Hall, but instead it silently rearranged itself until it formed an archway large enough to pass through, similar to the one outside the Leaky Cauldron leading to Diagon Alley. As soon as the entrance was large enough to pass through, I charged through it-and immediately collided with a Death Eater who had come running from my right.

Both of us crashed to the ground. I landed on top of it and found myself face-to-face with the Death Eater's ornate silver mask. Swallowing a shriek, I instinctively ripped the mask off.

A man with blonde hair and a square jaw stared at me, his expression cool and calculating. A mixture of shock, sorrow and a desire for revenge swelled inside me, and I spat, "Thorfinn Rowle."

His wand poked me in the ribs, and before I could move he shouted, "Confringo!"

The blast sent me flying into the opposite wall, and I collapsed on the ground. My back burned from where it had struck the wall, but I grabbed my wand from where I'd dropped it and held it in front of me.

Rowle sneered and started saying, "Ava-" but he was cut off by a red jet of light sailing towards him. He deflected it, and I glanced back to see that the Stupefy had come from Edward. Our eyes locked, and I briefly nodded to him in thanks. He shrugged-his face was pale and his hair was still dark yellow, but the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

Another figure tore out of the path Rowle had come from, but instead of the Death Eater I was expecting, it was Graham. He eyed the four of us in surprise, but as Rowle lifted his wand again he quickly yelled, "No! I don't want these four harmed!"

Rowle turned to him and snarled, "Why?"

"They're the Elementum Quadrumvirate," stated Graham, almost in awe.

Behind me, I heard Maia whisper, " _How does he know that?_ "

"These four?" Rowle asked incredulously. "You said they were of age!"

"I said they were probably seventh-year students," Graham corrected. "It's no matter. They could be first-year students and my leader's plans would be unchanged."

Rowle swept us a freezing glare, but stomped towards the third exit: a window leading to the Hogwarts grounds. He cast the Blasting Curse again, and the window shattered into tiny glass fragments.

Rowle and Graham hopped over the windowsill. I tried to follow them, but Edward grabbed the back of my robes and yanked me back into the tunnel.

"What-" I started, but broke off as the rest of the Death Eaters flooded out of the pathway and followed the other two out of the window. As the last one leapt through the window, the professors burst into the vicinity and raced after them.

I strained against Edward's hand, which was still clutching my robes. "We've got to follow them!"

"Victoire, that Death Eater almost killed you!" he hissed. "Why do you still want to go after them? And how did that acolyte guy know we were the Elementum Quadrumvirate?"

"I reckon we'd better tell them now," said Connor quietly.

I huffed in annoyance and rounded on Edward. "Fine! He cornered Connor and I in the hallway after I set off the Speleiré's alarm, performed some spell I've never heard of that made our element tattoos hurt like hell, knows more about the Elementum Quadrumvirate than we do, and apparently he's working for someone that formed a partnership with the Death Eaters!"

Edward and Maia stared at us.

"I did feel pain from my tattoo when I was arguing with the Slytherins in the dungeons," Maia offered. "I thought I just stretched a neck muscle, but you're saying there's a spell that can track us from anywhere?"

"Anywhere in Hogwarts, I think," said Connor. "The spell created a set of runes inside what looked like a map of Hogwarts. I didn't have time to actually read the runes, but I bet it can only track us inside the school. I mean, for it to pursue us _anywhere_ in the world would be incredibly complex and nearly impossible."

"This Graham fellow sounds half-mad," noted Edward. "Can we really trust everything he says?"

"No," I admitted reluctantly. "He already tried lying to us, but Connor caught onto it. For all we know, he just made up a story to stall us. Assuming he wasn't lying about stalling us."

"I don't think-" Maia began, but she was interrupted by the loudest explosion yet that literally rocked the ground beneath our feet.

Edward's grip on my robes slackened as he briefly lost his balance, and I seized my chance, running outside to where the Death Eaters and professors had gone – and found out how the Death Eaters had entered Hogwarts in the first place.

A swirling black and violet ring of light was situated just inside the Hogwarts boundaries. Graham was standing behind it, hands extended towards it and his forehead creased in concentration. One by one, the Death Eaters were stepping through it and disappearing, and the remaining ones were duelling with the Hogwarts staff. Headmistress McGonagall, Professor Jaron, and Professor Slughorn were the closest to the black void, firing spells at point-blank range towards the Death Eaters, but every spell they cast was repelled.

The scene before me seemed so _wrong_ , because Hogwarts was supposed to be impenetrable. But ever since the four of us had dug up the Element-Giver on Halloween night, everything I'd thought I'd known about magic was defied and it seemed like we'd unintentionally set off a chain reaction…one that we had no clue what the end goal was.

"Hogwarts needs better wards, lady!" yelled one of the Death Eaters as he released a rapid Killing Curse. Even from my far vantage point, I saw Headmistress McGonagall's nostrils flare, but she didn't rise to the bait-just dodged the green jet and continued duelling, throwing spell after spell at the Death Eaters.

The third last Death Eater jumped through the vortex, leaving only the Death Eater who'd yelled, a tall and muscular Death Eater, and Graham. The short auburn-haired man was giggling quietly, and a strange sense of foreboding filled me. I had the horrible feeling that even though the Death Eaters were definitely outnumbered now, something was going to go wrong.

The two remaining Death Eaters fought fiercely, somehow managing to hold off all the professors, but they were retreating – and Professor Jaron was, perhaps unconsciously, stepping forwards in an effort to harry them. I wanted to scream at him to stop moving, but I knew the slightest distraction would just get him killed.

The outspoken Death Eater nodded at Graham and whirled around, walking straight into the void. Graham gritted his teeth, then brought his hands down as if trying to smash them into the air.

All at once, the violet ring pulsed and expanded outwards, causing a strong blast of energy to ripple through the air. Everyone was knocked off balance, but Professor Jaron, being the closest, received the full brunt of the impact and staggered backwards. The sole Death Eater raised his wand and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

Seemingly in slow motion, the green jet of light struck Professor Jaron in the heart. I watched in shock as his eyes went blank and he toppled over, and my mind went numb.

Fury and disbelief mixed inside me, choking the scream rising in my throat. I automatically aimed my wand at the Death Eater's face and shrieked the first thing that came to mind: " _Accio mask_!"

The mask came flying off his face, and I let it drop to the ground in front of me as I gazed at Professor Jaron's killer. His distinct black moustache meant that I recognized him immediately from his Daily Prophet picture as Walden Macnair.

I wasn't sure what I would have done next, but I never found out since Macnair instantly turned around, and both he and Graham leapt into the vortex.

"No!" a voice cried behind me, and I spun around. Connor was staring at Professor Jaron's body with tears in his eyes. Edward and Maia were standing on either side of him, identical looks of horror on their faces.

With a deafening pop, the black void winked out of existence, leaving us all still trying to process what had just happened. I glanced down at Macnair's Death Eater mask lying at my feet, feeling as dazed as if I'd been hit by a Confundus charm. A faint breeze ruffled the grass around Professor Jaron's corpse, and all was silent.


End file.
